


Not a logical intervention

by TFALokiwriter



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Animal Death, Disability, Ethical Dilemmas, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Found Family, Guilt, Heartwarming, Heartwrenching, I swear this story wasn't supposed to become this long, Kissing, Lots and lots and lots of ozh'esta, M/M, Minor Character Death, Moral Dilemmas, Older Characters, Regret, Romulans, Sad, Short Chapters, Some LONG Chapters, Spock Prime's holo-emitter, Spock Prime's photograph, Tearjerker, Time Travel Fix-It, USS Kelvin, USS Shran, Vulcan Kisses, Vulcan Language, but not a lot, old married spirk, resolved guilt, romulan language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-01 21:43:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 76
Words: 85,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12713514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TFALokiwriter/pseuds/TFALokiwriter
Summary: Instead of appearing in 2258, the Jellyfish appears out of the lightning anomaly and comes into direct contact with the USS Kelvin preparing to conclude a voyage. These are just some of Spock's misadventures in a past. Was it even a logical intervention?Hardly.





	1. Chapter 1

Spock is the first one out of the anomaly. Face to face with the USS  Kelvin. Spock clenched onto the pendent on his neck beneath his coat. The sheer realization that he had arrived in a very crucial point in time was obvious. The communications aspect to the computer was chiming. The computer’s voice repeatedly reminding him of the incoming call. Spock briefly closed his eyes then reopened them.

“USS Jellyfish to USS Kelvin,” Spock replied. “This is Ambassador S'chn T'gai Spock. I am from the future.”

There was radio silence as the two ships floated in space across from each other. It had been fifteen minutes since contact made with the USS Kelvin. His view screen came to life to display the holographic face of the captain in a uniform that was unfamiliar to the Vulcan. Tight fitting bright blue uniform instead of the iconic  yellow. Star Fleet had gone through many uniforms before coming on to the well recognized color for each career track. Thick eyebrows. Rounded ears.

“Captain Robau of the USS Kelvin,” Robau said. “would you like a lift to Vulcan?”

“No,” Spock said, decisively. “I would like a lift to Earth. Permission to come aboard, captain.”

“Permission granted.” Robau said. “Kelvin out.”

Spock carefully menurved the ship closely to the larger vessel. Star Fleet would secure the red matter. And he had many things that had to be taken care of. The future was fragile and very delicate in the time he had arrived. Spock heard the familiar light friendly melody to the transporter surrounding him as the tractor beam grabbed hold onto the vessel. He reappeared onto a transporter padd. Instinctively, his hands were behind his back. Captain Robau was joined by first officer and science officer Kirk. The resemblance between his bondmate was increasingly strong. A look of bitterness, loss, and regret. His eyes widened, this was Richard Robau. The captain who brought heavily pregnant Winona Kirk  and George Kirk to their rapidly growing family.

“Greetings,” Spock said, holding the ta’al out. “Captain Robau, Commander Kirk.”

“Do we know each other in the future?” George asked.

“I cannot answer,” Spock replied, lowering his hand placing it behind his back clenching onto his wrist. George was quite illogical as his son would be with asking questions that could not be answered. Only… Only questions that he would be able to answer in time with his science tricorder and more observation. George would later find this question answered.

“Prime directive,” Spock nodded. “Sorry, trick question,” George had a laugh to himself. “Ambassador.” He wanted to say ‘Ambassador Kirk’ but it was illogical to do so.

“We happen to have a VIP quarters,” Robau said. “it’s the best we can manage.”

“You do not have any belongings, Ambassador?” George asked.

“I do not,” Spock said. “it was… not supposed to be this way.”

“My first officer will guide you to the quarters,” Robau said. “It will take four days to arrive to Earth.”

“My story does not need revision, captain,” Spock said. “Vulcans do not lie.”

“As much as I like  to believe that Vulcans are very good planners, I must think otherwise,” Robau said, holding his hand up. “I will talk to you after we arrive to Earth. Have fun, number one.” Robau then walked away out of the transporter room leaving Spock who raised a thinned, grayed eyebrow in return with George in the same room.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meant to be a short long fic being oms reunion but since the Orville was coming on that night, I had to split it up into parts. The first part had to be posted. (and the first part written) It was minutes before the Orville’s newest episode started airing… So here I go, making a fix it fic!

“Here is your temporary quarters, Ambassador,” George said. “the quarter master will come in to give you some Vulcan decent clothes in the next five minutes. You look like you didn’t come with anything so consider this the captain’s parting gifts.”

“Tell your captain that he has sound logic,” Spock said, then he walked forward into the room. 

“Don’t mind if  I do,” George said, pleased. 

The quarters were familiar yet a little different to the Vulcan. The doors had closed behind him with a soft woosh. The colorful scenery stood out to the Vulcan. He warily looked over in the direction of the computer stationed on the desk. The room held no forms of comfort for the elder. No sign that someone once lived in there. Spock briefly closed his eyes with a heavy heart then reopened them to see the vastness of space. He approached the large windows watching it pass the ship. A familiar, nostalgic sight. Spock’s shoulders shrank with a depressed sigh. Sure, for being a member of the diplomatic corps, he had a knack for bringing as few things as possible. Which is why he barely had anything with him except for the clothes on his back including the ones inside the duffle bag back in the future. The meditation mat that was left behind. All he had was a photograph and his holo-emitter. 

Spock unzipped his coat then slid it off placing it onto the chair across from him. 

He slipped out a large photograph  from his coat sleeve pocket. It had a extra layer in the sleeves that made one assume that he hid it within his sleeve when in reality, the ambassador had hidden it inside a pocket. He left the object onto the counter alongside him. There was enough room in the well lit cabin to perform meditation to collect his thoughts. He had annihilated a entire species. And he was still alive to talk about it. He promised them that everything would be all right. He promised. His trembling hands were having difficulty remaining steady. His emotional control was falling to shreds. Meditation had helped him in the worse of his emotional half. Trying to save the planet and he willfully aided in its destruction. A sun that went supernova too soon. He sat down onto the rug beside the counter. 

He looked over toward the photograph of his deceased crewmates. 

Spock shook his head in shame.  Spock closed his eyes cupping his hands together into his lap. He cleared his mind then slowly submerged himself into his typical meditation routine. His fingers stopped trembling. His demeanor changed from the most vulnerable, emotional state to a calm, relaxed aged Vulcan. The doors opened behind him. A young man looked over toward the Vulcan then placed the outfit onto the counter.  His mind slowly put together a elaborate plan to handle the oncoming future. He could always take two short cuts. The guardian of forever or slingshotting around the sun. _Kaiidth_. Perhaps he had been in the ancient hall of thoughts before applying for it while making his will. A stable time loop. Perhaps he applied under a different name to make it not as confusing with his younger self. His younger self might be different now that he has arrived. 

Only Surak would know if he had done any damage with his bondmates future. The Kirk family would remain alive and well. Spock listened to the man’s heavy footsteps walking out of the cabin. The Vulcan seemed to be visibly relaxed by his meditation. He used the counter as his support to help himself up. He slowly strolled in the direction of the  outfits. They were unique for visiting Earth. He felt the warmthness of the freshly cleaned attire. A warmth that he once held in his youth. A warmth that he once cherished and loved. A warmth that he had accepted he would outlive. Just not in the chain of events that had happened between him and his _T’hy’la_. Spock reeled himself  back gaining control over his emotional half. Spock rubbed his shoulder visualizing his husband. Holding him within his arms in bed.  His curly graying hair face planted by the Vulcan. He can still feel the man’s hair against his face. Hands wrapped around the younger man’s stomach. 

A painful reminder of what he had lost. Warmth to the Vulcan’s fingertips reminded Spock of who he had lost. It was so long ago.  He thumbed through the attire selecting what his next attire should be in the morning. The Vulcan hadn’t been happy. Not since McCoy left the plane of the living. His dearest, cherished friend. Someone he enjoyed arguing within their mind-skype (as the dear doctor liked to call it) realm. Someone Kirk and Spock courted at the same time only for the offer to rejected because 1) Not ready,  2) Over his dead body, 3)  He doesn’t need another telepath invading his brain twenty-four-seven. But Spock knew they were all excuses. They were almost there when Jim vanished from Spock’s life. Jim would say that they were _there_ but they hadn’t gotten the ceremony ironed out. Spock believed McCoy was scared or either stalling because he was suffering from ‘Am-I-cramping-up-their-marriage?’ angst. A familiar one seen typically in interspecies Andorian marriages. 

The other members of the bridge crew, the remaining ones, stuck around for a few years  before falling flat into the grim reapers arms in a domino effect after the fateful transporter incident that took Jim away in the late 2370′s. Spock glanced over toward the photograph. He can hear their insistence and reassurances regarding the matter. Spock took off the holo-emitter from around his neck then hit the side button. The holo-emitter, well worn and aged, began to play a old man singing. He missed his husband. There was a small throb in his heart and numb aching in his mind. A healed broken bond that could be repaired at any moments notice. Spock wiped away a tear that formed at the edges of his eyes. One day he would join his crewmates, his family. The holo-emitter deactivated and back it went around his neck. Spock  saw a box across from him. He approached the box. It was a puzzle box. 

It was decided. 

He needed to put this puzzle together. 

Spock always did like a good challenge.


	3. Chapter 3

The corridors of the USS Kelvin was dark with street light fixtures in the ceiling giving a pool of light in the path. The corridors had a definite triangle shape. Spock acknowledged each new half of the hall was outlined in light that lead straight to the floor. There were pipes lining along the passageways behind the frames outlining a triangle. There were officers strolling down the hall engaged in science. Spock was in his freshly given attire heading in the direction of the mess hall. The sleeves themselves had the iconic Vulcanian pockets capable of hiding thin objects. 

He strolled his way into the mess hall to see it was partially populated. The ship was a older model. Built in the late 2200’s. The technology that Spock had been very familiar to was not installed. Matter synthesis was still in use. The familiar orange windows with numbers on them. The computer situated with each section with vocal command. He saw the room was sparsely populated. Spock strolled his way toward the synthesizes almost flying above the floor in a way reminiscent of gliding by the officers. He came to a stop in front of the synthesizer that had a dark door.

“Computer,” Spock began. “Synthesize Vulcanian salad and sweet tea."  

The computer chirped and in  blue light the food appeared before his eyes. 

“Nemiayo,” Spock said, taking the tray. 

It was only when he walked away did the Vulcan realize that he had thanked a computer. He was being illogical much like a human. He rubbed his forehead with a sigh once he had seated himself. A young woman with curly blonde hair and a bulging stomach sat at the same table. Her green eyes looking back at the Vulcan. 

“Hello, Mr Spock,” she held her hand out. “Winona Kirk.”

“I do not shake hands,” Spock said. Winona lowered her hand to the table alongside her tray. “Although, I am pleased to meet you.”

“How far in the future are you from?” Winona asked. 

“Very far,” Spock replied. “I cannot answer your question, Mrs Kirk.”

“Well, that’s a shame,” Winona said. “to think you would have been forth coming.”

“You will be delivering a child in March on the 22nd,” Spock said. “In Iowa, riverside.”

Winona smiled back, placing a hand onto her stomach. 

“Don’t tell me their gender,” Winona said. “I want it to be a surprise.”

“It will be a surprise,” Spock said, fondly. 

“And how do you know of my child?” Winona said. 

“I served with them,” Spock said. 

“All right, this is where I stop asking questions and you start talking about Vulcan,” Winona said. Spock picked up the sweet tea then took a sip from it. “‘I heard it is hotter than Arizona.” Spock lowered the cup with a small nod toward the woman.

“It is,” Spock said. “it gets cooler when T’Khut is over it. A relaxing break from the hot weather.”

“So warm,” Winona said, dreamily. “it sounds like the best place to have a vacation.”

“It is not,” Spock said, flatly. “there are still some arrogant members of my species at this time on Vulcan. We have our fair share of extremist groups, isolation groups, and radicals…” Spock sighed, lowering the tea cup. “the best place to spend a vacation is Risa.”

“Not with a family,” Winona said. 

“Alone it is.” Spock said.

“How long have you been alone?” Winona asked. 

“Far too long…” Spock said. “The best way to have a vacation is on Regis  Four.”

“It still exists?” Winona said, in shock. 

“Yes,” Spock replied. “very ideal for a growing family to visit.”

“What about for you?” Winona asked. “Do you have a dream vacation?”

“My dream vacation is when I meditate,” Spock said. “It is all I need.” he clenched on the pendent laying beneath his Vulcan robes against his chest. The only reminders of what was to come and what had passed. A lifetime of love cut short. He looked up from the vegetables up toward the green eyed woman. “Now where was I regarding Vulcan?”

“You were talking about the weather,” Winona said.

“Ah, the weather,” Spock said, letting go of the pendant. “the weather is nothing compared to the city limits.” He stabbed his fork into one of the vegetables. 

* * *

“Number one, my ready room,” Robau said.

George turned from his science station to the call of his captain. He stood up from the station following after the captain. The doors cooly shut behind the science officer. Robau stood alongside the window to his quarters. There was a desk that had a rounded dark blue love seat. The familiar bookshelf across that had several copies of hard back covered classics ranging from Shakespeare to historical classics.

“Captain,”  George said.

“The Vulcan High Council want a word with him,” Robau said.

”He doesn’t seem the bit interested in going to his homeworld,” George said.

”Number one, much as  I like not to take someone his age to be questioned by relentless questioners, I have to long as he is aboard this ship. We are headed to Vulcan first before going to Earth,” Robau looked toward the passing stars with his hands locked behind his back. “This man just lost his family.”

”From what Lieutenant Kirk said, he lost that a long time ago,” Robau turned in the man’s direction.

“You asked him?” Robau asked, upset. 

“It came up in conversation, captain,” George said. “he implied it.”

“And?” Robau asked. 

“He may have implied that he destroyed Romulus by accident,” George said.

“Vulcans don’t make mistakes,” Robau said. 

“He is S’chn T’gai,” George said. 

“What does that mean?” Robau asked. 

“He is the son of Sarek,” George  said. 

“Am… Ambassador Sarek?” Robau slowly sat down into the couch. 

“The very same,” George said. “he is half human. Humans make errors.”

“Yes. . yes. .” Robau said. “that’s right,” the captain sighed then looked up toward the first officer. “Misplace Ambassador Spock.”

“What?” George asked, alarmed. 

“Did I say that? I didn’t say that,” Robau said. “make him as comfortable as possible.” George caught on to what he was saying. 

“Will do, Captain,” George said, with a wide smile then walked out of the ready room.


	4. Chapter 4

“You wish for me to do … what?” Spock asked, looking at the first officer with a raised, thinned eyebrow. 

Spock’s once slanted, dark prominent eyebrows were barely there only a straight grayed slanted line that reminded people that he was a Vulcan. His pointy ears gave off the alarm. The Vulcan’s sullen, brown eyes stared back in skepticism. George felt like a giant compared to the shorter Vulcan who was looking up in his direction with a tilted head. There was something about _the stare._ A simple stare the Vulcan was giving him. The stare intimidated the first officer even with it being weathered and well aged like wine. A part of George Kirk felt like he was making a ridiculous request. 

Which it was. 

But a much logical request.

“To be out of the computer’s sight,” George repeated. 

“First officer,  I will not tolerate avoidance when it comes to Star Fleet,” Spock said. “that is _childish_.”

“Not Star Fleet,” George said. 

“Then what is it?” Spock inquired. 

“Vulcan high council,”  George said, and the Vulcan’s eyebrow lowered. 

“I understand,” Spock said.

“Would you like to do it now?” George asked. 

“It depends on the Vulcan vessel rendezvous,” Spock said. 

“‘They are not going to rendezvous with us,” George said. 

“Vulcan high council will have a T’Plana-Hath by here two days should one be available nearby the Kelvin’s passage,” Spock said. “I am more inclined to believe that is the case. Vulcans can never be fully prepared for when humans require assistance.”

“That’s a service ship, Ambassador," George began. “besides that kind of transport would be done planet side—”

The blonde human stared back at the well aged Vulcan once stopping mid-sentence. It occurred to him on how often a D'kyr type Vulcan Vessel crossed paths with the USS Kelvin let alone a T’Plana-Hath provided assistance to the vessel when it came to science in exchange based meetings planet-side. As Vulcan vessels were not equipped with Transporters. Spock nodded in return as the realization sunk into George. Vulcans were highly prepared for escorting federation vessels back to a Starbase damaged (or not) from a skirmish or helping them with reports, readings, and discoveries that were considered never to happen.  Vulcans were crazy prepared. 

“It is exactly what you are thinking of,“ Spock said. 

“You are thinking of anything and everything on how it _could_ end up,” George said. “so that’s a universal thing for Vulcans.” Spock appeared to be slightly amused. 

“Yes,” Spock said. “I am interested in what you ask of me to do, First Officer Kirk, to be out of the computer’s way.”

George nodded, with a nod. He had a smile that his husband would share back at him during the historical missions in deep space then the ones later shared with the USS _Enterprise A_. He had light blue eyes. The kind of eyes that reminded Spock of many oceans that he and his husband had observed together side by side. Watching the whales leave San Fransisco. For a second, Spock saw Kirk through the first officer. As soon as the first officer began to talk, the illusion ended. 

“You can keep your belongings where you have them,” George said. “If this rendezvous is going to happen in the next twenty four hours, you are going to be just fine.”

The Vulcan grew a dark look. 

“I hope so,” Spock said. 

* * *

Just because the woman was on maternity leave did not mean she could be useful. She was reading a classic novel to the baby forming in her bump. A novel that Robau had handed to her at one of the baby showers. The second officer, Rebecca White, had given another novel as had the third officer. The child inside was kicking periodically. Being useful was one of the requirements to being a Kirk and to being an Engineer. Winona relaxed in the gray seat. The doors wooshed open allowing in her husband, George, whistling coming to the living room. 

“How did it go with the Ambassador?” Winona asked

“He cooperated,” George replied, hoping down alongside the woman. “largely.”

“Aww, that sweet sad man,” Winona said. “He deserves a better life.”

“He seems to like being alone,” George said, wrapping his hand around her shoulder. “Thinks he deserves it.”

“There’s a difference between thriving in loneliness and punishing  by being alone,” Winona said. 

“I sure wish we could help him,” George said, with a shake of his head. 

Winona looked over toward him.

“We can let the Ambassador stay over at the farm house if he is on Earth for long,” Winona said. “serving that he doesn’t expect a intercontinental breakfast.”

“I like that idea,” George said. His eyes looked over toward the book. “What ‘chu reading to our baby?”

“Romeo and Juliet,” Winona said. “Our child should have good tastes.”

“I hate for them to be interested in dark,” George said. “Not like there is a light sensitivity in the family.”

“Hope not!” Winona said. 

“I don’t think the house will be ready for a gothic Kirk,” George said. 

“I am sure the house is ready,” Winona said, light heartedly. 

“Are you ready for a black painted house?” George asked. 

“Ready for everything that being parenthood has in store for us,” Winona said. “I said it before, and I will say it again, nothing can surprise me for what the future has in store for us.” she pinched the man’s cheek the wiggled it from side to side. Their foreheads touched as they shared a smile looking at each other’s eyes. George’s hand came onto the woman’s large belly. He felt the baby’s kick beneath his hand. They parted their foreheads from against the other. George looked down toward the big stomach. 

* * *

The reports of there being a time traveler aboard the USS Kelvin was spreading. Officers were quietly awaiting for the Ambassador to randomly show up in the halls. Straying in places that were least expected for a elder. The Vulcan crewmembers seemed to be dismissive of approaching the Ambassador as they did not have a subject matter to approach him with. And it would be illogical to ask questions about the future as it would far likely seal the fate of their future should it be unwelcoming. White paced back and forth in front of the ambassador’s doorway contemplating the best way to approach the man. She was curious about a well known novelist making waves creating classics of the era. 

_Perhaps…_

**_No._ **

Should she?

It wasn’t her place. 

Perhaps she can ask at a better time. 

She wanted to know if the current cliffhanger was ever going to be resolved.  It had been close to five years since the writer had published the recent novel. It was unbecoming for a communications officer to fall apart at the seams because of a time traveler. Captain Robau needed his officers in tip top shape. She lowered the novel to her side. White sighed, regaining a grip over herself, then walked past the empty quarters.


	5. Chapter 5

“Captain T'Surak of the Tyrian, we are here to pick up the traveler you acquired on your voyage,” T'Surak said. 

“Commander White, inform our pick up to arrive in the shuttle bay,”  Robau requested. 

“Yes, captain,“ White turned toward her station and began to make the announcement. 

“Captain Robau,” T’Surak said. “I heard that you are accepting vice admiralcy after this mission ends. Is that true?”

“It is,” Robau said. 

“I was surprised to hear that about you,” T’Surak said. “for someone born in space and loves it.”

“Don”t get me wrong,” Robau said. “I still love it. Just not to spend my natural life in it.”

“Understood,” T’Surak said.  “does your partner know?”

“He does,” Robau said. “that’s why I am going to become vice admiral. To be on the same planet as he is.”

“That is logical,” T’Surak remarked.

“Anything changed on the Sehlat front?” Robau asked. 

“The issue is still up in the air,” T’Surak said, “we cannot settle on what type to get.”

“Very difficult,” Robau said. “I can imagine.”

“All the breeds are a animal owners dream,” T’Surak said. “Aesthetically pleasing.”

“What about the miniature sehlat breed?” Robau asked. 

“My bondmate does not need another child running around the house, captain,” T’Surak said. 

“I get your problem,” Robau said, snapping his fingers.  Robau looked over toward the doors noticing that the Ambassador had  yet to come in. He looked over in the direction of White then turned his attention away. “Computer, locate Ambassador Spock.”

“Ambassador Spock is not on the Kelvin,” the computer replied. 

“I think your traveler skipped town,” Robau said. “one way or another… I think he stole one of our shuttle crafts and went into the nearby anomaly a few hours ago. Sorry about that. Robau out.” The screen turned to black before the Vulcan could reply.  “Change our course to Earth, Mr Watson. We have a voyage to conclude.”

“Yes, captain.” Watson replied, changing the directions. 

Robau looked over toward the science station visibly impressed by his first officer.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written on Tumblr, exclusively, posting one to two chapters a day. Editing along the way for errors that I made. :p

Spock’s eyes opened to a bright white light. And then he was blind, again. McCoy would remark on the tragedy of it with sarcasm in his voice. Imaging what the doctor would say regarding this issue softened the blow. The only two times he was blind the two men were  there for him and the other time Kirk had been on the other side of the see through door.  And now he had neither with him. He can hear the medical equipment to the scenery around him. The sound of nurses going by him.  It was a curse to be half Vulcan. Extremely bright light blinded the Vulcan briefly enough to send his secondary eyelids over. They were not apparent to the naked eye. A thin film settled over the eye in dark gray colors. The apparent conversation that he was overhearing was a unique one at best.

“As CMO, I am obligated to help you patients be put into stasis which you did without asking for help,” the chief medical officer said. “and this man is a Vulcan. Medicine barely knows how stasis would be to their well being let alone being in sick bay. They are hardly in sick bay.”

“He wanted to go in, Talron,” George said, as Spock felt around the edge of the biobed. He leaned up. “and he didn’t say anything about there being any health problems  before going in.”

“Vulcans have to be given the stasis shot before being put in,” the chief medical officer, Talron, replied. “You can’t just move a Vulcan a stasis without going to the CMO. You’re a science officer.”

“I forgot,” George said. “I was sloppy.”

“That you were,”  Talron said.

Spock heard the woman’s footsteps headed her way

“Greetings, doctor,” Spock  gave the ta’al.

“How are you feeling?” Talron asked, as a familiar but different sounding device was seemingly waved in front of him by the sounds of it. Spock lowered his hand down to his side.

“Partially lethargic from the stasis trip and blind from the bright lighting,” Spock replied. His head was turned away from the woman as though she was situated in the right rather than the left. “otherwise, I am adequate.”

“Blindness from sick bay’s lighting?” Talron said.

“Yes, doctor,” Spock replied.

“That is strange,” Talron said. “I didn’t take Vulcan physiology for having eye protection.”

“Doctor,” Spock said. “I request you do not make a report regarding my condition.”

“You are from the future… right,” Talron said, as a pair of heavy boots came to the Vulcan’s side. “your readings say there is nothing wrong with you,” the sound of a older variation of a medical tricorder sounded lower below the man’s torso that grew rapid and alarming. “Except for a increased libido. I  have medication regarding that issue.”

“That will not be necessary,” Spock replied. “I am very capable of controlling it.”

“Can you control it long enough to your quarters without relieving yourself in a empty quarters?” Talron asked. She sounded as concerned as McCoy would when it came to the Ambassador’s health. Genuine. The Vulcan had a small nod in return.

“I can,” Spock said.

“Sure you don’t need the medication?” Talron asked.

“Very certain,” Spock said.

“Doctor, I can guide our honorable guest to his quarters,” George perked up along the woman’s side.  “ _safely_.” the man emphasized.  Spock heard the man turn in his direction. “Ambassador Spock?”

“I chose the first officer,” Spock replied, factly.

A fond memory came to the Ambassador. George Kirk and the first officer having a night together in order to get to know each other. A silly ritual to find if the courter was the right person for their grown child. It was a parental ritual, Amanda had explained, something that Spock and Jim might get to share. Adopting their fair share of children in the future and watching them leave the nest, Spock understood. Sarek advising against motorcycles because the man cheats in racing. He had made a good choice then and he shall make a good choice now. He heard George snicker. Spock slid off the biobed then stood up right using the edge as his support. His libido was a fuzzy warm boiling feeling in the background. Something that Spock had been largely ignoring. He couldn’t see what was going on in front of him as there was no word.

“I’ll lead the way and you just keep on walking,” George said. “Are you okay with that?”

“It is acceptable,” Spock replied.

“Good, good,” George said. “come along.”

Spock walked after the human.

He felt the man’s large hand brushing against his own while clutched onto his long, curled cuff to the sleeve. He heard the murmurs of, “Isn’t he supposed to be off the ship?” as he strode by. It was a perfectly logical question and confused demeanor from the crew. The first officer hummed to himself. The humming was friendly to the elders ears. Spock enjoyed walking. Surely, it was his favorite activity. Used to be his favorite activity. Kirk and Spock walking together outside anywhere that was open to them. The quiet nights they had together that were quite content and memorable. Everything reminded Spock of better times. He pushed aside the memories to focus on the now. A mildly depressing situation with all matters considered. The man’s heavy footsteps came to a stop. George’s footsteps sounded like a god walking among men for the loud and firm pace it had. Spock halted in his tracks. He felt the man’s hands come to the side of the elder’s shoulders.

“Your quarters,” George said.  Spock walked past him. “Ambassador.”

Spock turned in the human’s direction.

“Yes, first officer?” Spock said.

“If you like to visit my wife and I sometime, you can find us at the old Kirk farm house,” George said. “well, in the beginning of the child’s life we will be there planet side. Going to make some sacrifices. Winona is going to miss space.”

“Perhaps you do not have to,” Spock said. “most humans have family planet side.”

“Her brother is a bad example,” George said. “the others are quite iffy.”

“Permission to speak freely, sir?” Spock asked.

“Yes,” George said.

“When the children are old enough, take your family with you to planet-side assignments,” Spock advised. Spock was tempted to mention Sam but it was illogical as they had not come across one another and may likely never do so. “it is the only logical solution.”

“It is,” George said. “sound logic.”

“Indeed,” Spock said.

“I mean to say, if you want to make a new family for yourself in the past, the Kirk’s have open arms,” Spock tilted his head. “We have lots of extended found family around the quadrant.”

“Fascinating,” Spock said, in intrigue. “Vulcans happen to adopt lots of orphaned children. It’s a tradition.”

George cleared his throat.

“Vulcans are never going to admit that to my face, are they?” George asked.

“Hardly,” Spock said. “My father is much like … No… that is irrelevant. My apologies. Live long and prosper, first officer Kirk.” Spock gave the ta’al then stepped back allowing the doors to close on the human.

George turned away from the doors with a small smile on his face. It was odd for a Ambassador to request permission to speak freely with a first officer. That normally would be said to a captain from a lower ranked officer. George sighed shaking his head. Sarek was going to have his hands full with a son bound to enter Star Fleet. The human walked down the hall before he came to a sudden halt. He went thoroughly through his realization and his eyes slightly widened. George shook the revelation off his mind and dismissing it from his memory all together.

George walked on.


	7. Chapter 7

The first sight Spock had been able to see when his inner eyelid retracted was space. A curious, well lit place with distant planets waiting to be discovered.  A distant planet resembling a marble that was a matter of a day away. Spock’s patience had been well used. He made his way into the sonic shower then put on his attire of the morning. He slid the photograph into the long, thick sleeve pocket. The pendant underneath the shirt. The shape of the pendant wasn’t visible from the shirt’s fabric. He came out of the quarters with  his hands behind his back. 

Spock noticed that two female officers strolled by his door. He walked out then headed his way down the hall. There were male officers holding hands strolling down the hall, female offices holding hands  set at the corner of the hallway speaking in low voices about the future, and officers in general exercising in KELVI labeled excise outfits running past him. It felt a bit like home except for the hand holding in public. The darkness clearly made it easier for public affection to be shown. Spock made his way down the hall coming to a sparsely populated corridor. Robau came out of no where holding a bulky padd. 

Robau looked up with the blue light reflecting his unique skin tone. 

“Ambassador Spock,” Robau said “I was going to look for you.”

“Captain Robau,” Spock said. 

“I came here to apologize for whatever my first officer had to do to help you evade the Vulcan elders,”  Robau said, lowering the padd to his side. 

Seeing the captain face to face was better than seeing him on the holographic screen. He seemed to be much shorter than the Ambassador. One foot shorter than the admiral. The hint of a smile grew on the elder’s face  as he tilted his head, bemused, at the captain’s apology. 

“Your apology is not necessary, captain,” Spock said. “The only one who should be thanked is you and your crew for the hospitality you have shown. Also abiding the prime directive so well. I applaud your crew for not asking details of the future. A very model, examplary crew.” The captain grew a smile in return toward the Ambassador. 

“Thank you, Ambassador,”  Robau said. 

“You are very welcome,” Spock gripped the wall to the doorway leaning his side against it. “I sense there is a complication in getting to Earth.” The human nodded in return. 

“Temporal anomaly,” Robau said. “the ship is rapidly aging.”

“And the crew?” Spock asked.

“No,” Robau clasped his hands together. “it is just the ship itself.”

“Fascinating,” Spock remarked. “quite a irregularity.”

“If we can’t get it out of the temporal anomaly in time then I have no choice but to evacuate the ship,” Robau said. White came to the man’s side. “this is my second officer, head of communications,” White nodded her head. Her pitch black eyes staring back at the Vulcan. “she is willing to wait for you during the evacuation.”

“Ambassador,” White greeted him. “Pleased to meet you in person.”

“As is you,” Spock replied. “And will you two join in the evacuation?”

“We will see,” Robau said, with a small smile. “If there is a evacuation at all. Now, if you excuse me.” 

Robau walked past the ambassador. The second officer stepped into the lighting. Spock recognized the woman as an officer who served proudly alongside Philippa Georgiou during the Battle of the Binary Stars on the USS Shran dying in the field. Someone who lived and prosperous. Philippa had proudly given an eulogy for the lost crews.  He remembered it quite well learning about it. White smiled back at the  Vulcan.  Spock had difficulty finding a way to start a conversation with a woman bound to be dead in the next twenty years. She turned to the side gesturing him on. 

“Continue where you were going,” White said. “I was preparing to go to sick bay.” White walked past the Ambassador. 

Spock  relaxed then made his way to the mess hall.


	8. Chapter 8

“Evacuate the USS Kelvin, there is an ion storm and the ship cannot take that. Please evacuate immedietly–”

The intercomn turned off abruptly  as the lights went out in the hall. Spock packed what few clothes he had been given and had came with in a star fleet issued duffle bag complete with a meditation mat in a rush. He made his way down the hall heading in the direction of the shuttle bay. Spock heard a woman’s familiar scream making in his tracks. The scream sounded relatively close to him in the adjoining hallway. Spock briefly closed his eyes. Directly violating the temporal prime directive. He was going to interfere to help James Kirk exist. He turned from the direction that he was headed originally then went in the source of the screams. 

Winona’s screams were loud and defeaning. Spock had only heard of such screams from officers being tortured or in great agony. His cat like eyes saw through the darkness. Color was slightly brighter between darkness. He came to the woman’s side placing a hand onto her shoulder and placed his hand on the woman’s face sending a calming wave. The contractions were painful. The ship rocked from side to side. James Kirk was not going to be the same man that Spock knew. It was then that Spock knew that he was in a alternate timeline where anything can happen. The captain was ready to come out at any minute. It was funny how Spock realized that he would always think of his bondmate as a captain. He took his hand off her face then picked her up with his duffle bag on his shoulder. She clenched the Vulcan’s shirt as he fled down the hall. 

There were officers with glow in the lights guiding the other officers in. Spock’s vessel was set in the middle of the hangar. The back end was down and ready to be boarded. Spock stepped aside watching the flood of officers go past him. Several escape pods were leaving the shuttle bay flying out of their small, large cub holders shaped container. The ship trembled, loudly. Sparks were sent flying. He saw a familiar figure among the shadows of others make their way toward his direction. The first officer’s blue eyes were the first thing the Ambassador noted. The first officer’s hand strolled to the woman’s cheek and whispers of gratitude was exchanged between the married couple. 

“Will the captain join in the evacuation?” Spock inquired. 

“Said he will be right behind me,” George said. 

“We shall wait for him in my vessel,” Spock said. “White has left the ship.”

“She wouldn’t leave so soon,” George said, skeptically. 

“Mrs White was headed toward the exercise room of the Kelvin which happens to be nearby the shuttle bay the last time  I had seen her this evening,” Spock said. “she would not take the risk of staying behind to explode.” 

Winona shouted in pain.

“To the ship, to the ship, to the ship,” Winona repeated painfully. 

“Allright,” George said. 

“It is over here,” Spock said. 

The three went into the Jellyfish. 

Spock placed the woman against the wall right across from the gigantic red blob in the center encased by strong metal and glass. George took the woman’s hand knelt down beside her. Spock dropped his duffle bag along the side at the chair in front of the center. He turned on the ship. He watched several humans fleeing out of the shuttle bay exit. The starship trembled, loudly. Pieces of metal fell to the floor. Spock waited, watching several humans come out including Talron with several limping officers surrounding her. Her unique appearance lacking eyebrows almost resembling in a way Odo from Star Base Deep Space Nine. 

Spock waited a few more seconds as the screams from the woman intensified. She would require medical attention on a medical shuttle. The Jellyfish was not equipped for that kind of help. Robau appeared out into the shuttle bay. A moment later the wall behind him gave out. Spock gestured the man to come in. Robau ran toward the side of the Jellyfish. Robau’s bootsteps echoed onto the ship. Spock deactivated the stairs and the door closed behind the captain. The lift slid back into the ship that flew above the floor. It twirled away from the entrance speeding off into the vastness of space. Spock looked over to see  fairly rusty, old ship rocking from side to side disturbingly. He turned on the protectionary field for the ship. The starship exploded in a fit of rage. The shuttle crafts flew out of the direction of Ion Storm.  Spock followed suit. It was only a few minutes later did Spock hear the cries of a baby. 

“They have your eyes, George,” Winona said. 

“Look at those bright eyes,” George said. “Never seen anything like it. Its like the lighting from space.”

“That’s unexpected,” Robau said. “Your baby is twice cuter than you.”

“This is not a competition, captain,” George said, jokingly. 

“Look at them,” Winona said. “we have a little unisex Kirk in the family. What do we call them?”

“I was thinking of James Tiberius Kirk,” George said.

“How perfect,” Winona said. 

“I think it suits them,” Robau said. “I know they will be someone to be proud of.”

“We are always going to be proud of them,” George said. “they are a Kirk.”

Spock headed on toward the marble. The starships were in formation following the lead of a officer while staying in the back. They didn’t realize how right they were that the little baby was going to grow up to be Star Fleet’s finest. Or maybe not, since there was interference in his birth. Either way, the Kirk’s were going to be proud of him either way. No matter his mistakes or his successes, proud parents watching him become captain of the USS Enterprise at the ceremony held on Earth. A ceremony that Spock himself had attended. 

“Looks like you were wrong, Ambassador Spock,”  Winona said. “he came in January.”

“Rarely am I ever wrong,” Spock remarked. “your child will make a great star fleet officer in your hands.”

“Yes, they will,” George said. “Oochy-woochy-koochy-coo.“

And the scene backtracked from the Jellyfish as it flew in the direction at low warp speed falling in line with the evacuated shuttles.


	9. Chapter 9

“It would be logical that we do not cross paths in the near future, Mrs Kirk,” Spock informed the woman. 

Winona held the baby in George’s blue jacket. She stared back at the Ambassador half alarmed. George and Robau were in the back answering questions from the press. The two were surrounded by star fleet security officers who were taller then the elder.  Completely blocking the view. Spock had his duffle bag slipped onto his shoulder.  She raised an eyebrow, perplexed, at the unexpected request. A part of  Winona was dismayed. 

“Why?” Winona asked.

“Because I fear that if I stay, I may make more changes then necessary with Jim’s development,” Spock said, looking toward the child. He grazed the side of the baby’s face. Jim’s eyes were closed. Spock’s sad, brown old eyes toward the woman’s eyes with a tinge of sadness. “it is best that I stay  out of his life between stardate 2265 and 2266.”

“You meet him between those two stardates,” Winona said. 

“Yes,” Spock said. “One hundred years younger.”

“I look forward to  hearing of you,” Winona said. 

Spock had a small nod. 

“As do I,” Spock said. “I can only hope that our next meeting is under better circumstances.”

“Ambassador, you are no trouble at all,” Winona said. Then she looked over toward the Ambassador with concern in his silence. She placed her free hand on the Vulcan’s shoulder, gently squeezing it.  “Are you all right?”

“I am fine, Mrs Kirk,” Spock lied.  Winona narrowed her eyes toward the Vulcan.

“That is a load of bullshit,”  Winona said. 

Spock came to a stop in front of the side walk then turned in the direction of the woman. A dark, long car with a roof came to a halt alongside the sidewalk. The security officers gently guided the woman away from the Ambassador, “Ambassador!” she called, as Spock slid his way into the car’s passenger seating. The voices became muffled and unclear within the car. He put the duffle bag alongside him onto the seat and buckled himself up. Spock placed his hands onto his lap. The Jellyfish was moved to a location where people wouldn’t take pictures of it. They had been met up at a landing bay that was off limits to civilians. Winona watched the hover-limo drive away. 

* * *

Star Fleet central was calm and composed. When Spock looked down at the floor there was the familiar emblem. The two leaves beside the star that had a sling shot going around it. The stars surrounding the emblem. Security was taking care of his belongings for him. Spock noticed there were many differences in the building. It was different and non-renovated. Circa-late 2230′s. He looked at it like a stranger in a place he didn’t belong. A commodore appeared out of thin air coming to his side. That he could tell because of the bold yellow block with two bands beside it. Spock recognized Commodore Charles Culber, an officer who died during the war in 2256 against the Klingons after his retirement. 

“Mr Spock,” Charles greeted him. 

“Commodore,” Spock greeted him. 

“The others are waiting for you upstairs,” Charles said. “the trip must not been easy for you.”

“It was adequate,” Spock said. “the ride was smooth yet disturbed.”

“So you’re really a Vulcan from the future,” Charles said. Spock raised an eyebrow. 

“Of course I am,” Spock said.

“When Admiral Phlox said that a Vulcan from the future had came, I was, um, uh, at best, skeptical,” Charles said. “they do live long but I highly doubt that they would come back in time. It’s illogical to do that–”

Spock held his hand up.

“I understand your initial disbelief, Commodore,” Spock said, linking his hand to his back. 

“Come along, Ambassador,” Charles said.

Charles was a dark man with curly dark hair. He had broad shoulders just like his son Hugh. Spock recalled coming across Hugh in his twilight years during a banquet with the crew of the Enterprise and his bondmate. The elevator brought them up playing musical instrumental sound tracks. The doors opened before them once the elevator came to a stop. Charles was the first one out of the elevator leading him in. There was a long table with Admirals ranging in age. Spock ran though his speech mentally. There was two empty chairs. One that was filled by Charles. Spock came to the one that was set in the center. A familiar position that he had been in many times as a Ambassador mediating between alien species for the federation. He sat down into the chair in front of the table. 

“You are quite aware of who I am due to the report the captain had sent to Star Fleet command,” Spock began. “there is a increasingly vital matter we must discuss before any other matter.”

“And what is that?” Admiral Archer asked. 

“Humpback whales,” Spock said. 

* * *

Robau awoke that morning to find on the news there was whales on the screen. A dozen so whales. The news reporters were taken back. There was complete silence from the set as their mouths were left open. The bulletin indicated that they had suddenly appeared out of thin air coming by San Fransisco. The Vice Admiral stared at the screen as the ages of the whales were being said. He saw the backsides of ten whales. Hadn’t the whales been extinct? He sat down onto the couch bewildered.

How could they have been hidden?

Not known for so long?

Theoretically, it could be plausible if no one looked for them. 

It was incredible. 

Humans being reintroduced to their animal neighbors. 

It had to be the Ambassador’s doing.


	10. Chapter 10

“Don’t worry, Ambassador,” Archer said. “we’ll keep it under lock and key until Hobus is getting ready to go into supernova stage.”

Spock looked at the admiral, skeptically. 

Archer was a highly controversial figure in Star Fleet and from the Vulcan High Council in this given time period. Carrying the katra of Surak, briefly, to form a link with the man. His words did not carry the weight that a Admiral should have. A Terran Fleet Captain, that Archer was and still is in the eyes of Vulcan due to the wide spread knowledge of formulating the federation. He should be revered but he wasn’t. And for some reason, Spock found, Archer was revered as one of Star Fleet’s greatest  captains. It was simply illogical. He never listened to his first officer. Archer had died shortly before Kirk’s historic five year mission concluded. 

“I understand,” Archer said. “This time I give my word.”

“Did you listen to  T’Pol this time around?” Spock asked. 

“Yes,“  Archer asked. “I am still infamous for that in your future?”

“Yes,” Spock said, with a nod. “Very infamous. There’s debates from the time that I came from on how you could have handled it back in those times.” Archer laughed, amused with his hands clasped behind his back. 

“And were there better solutions?” Archer asked.  Spock glared at him. 

“Mr Archer,” Spock chided him. “I cannot give information about these debates. You made the decisions and you stand by them no matter how controversial they were. It’s why you are controversial in the first place.”

“I was just testing you,“ Archer said. “Just to see if you were…”

“One of the fanatics?” Spock asked. 

“Yes,” Archer nodded. 

“The fanatics use holodecks,” Spock said. The Ambassador watched the center piece go into the  dark center circular entrance to the mountain. He turned in the direction of the admiral. “Live long and prosper, may we not cross paths with each other, and do not come after me should news break out of my capture,” the well aged admiral raised an eyebrow. “Kaiidth.”

“I promise,” Archer said, returning the gesture. “Live long and prosper, Ambassador.”

Spock had a small smile back at the admiral then turned away and headed toward his transport vehicle. His duffle bag was laid in the backseat. The admiral lowered his hand finding it odd to see a Vulcan smile. His concern was genuinely high. Spock got into the vehicle then sat down into the passenger seat and closed the door upon buckling up. The dark roof blocked  a view of the Ambassador as did the dark shaded windows. The admiral watched the hover-car fly away. 

* * *

“I am concerned about Mr Spock,” Winona said, as she looked over the crib toward the little baby.

George looked over toward her. 

“I can’t disagree,” George said. 

“We have to do something to help him,” Winona said. 

“Winnie,” George said. “He has done something that he needs to find resolve  with himself.” the swaddled baby laid in the crib fast asleep. “Immense guilt, can you imagine, guilty that you are alive while millions if not billions of people are dead? And you swore to save them. We can’t help him with that.”

“You think we’ve done all that we can?” Winona asked.

“Yes,” George said. “we did.”

“I feel like I didn’t do enough,” Winona said. “I can see when someone is troubled, easily.” George looked at his wife, fondly, affectionately. 

“How do you think it would be best to help him?” George said. 

“I haven’t thought of it yet…” Winona said. 

“Last I heard, Robau told me that The Ambassador was headed after some vessel called Botany Bay. And something about Planet Killer.” George shook his head.  “I stopped listening when he said planet killer. Ambassador’s working on something about that. The Ambassador is taking care of himself. If he ever considered it… that will be a long while before that happens.”

Winona took her husbands hand and squeezed it. 

“I hope I am wrong,” Winona said. 

“Me too… me too…” George agreed.


	11. Chapter 11

“I am Nomad,” Nomad introduced himself hovering in the center of the Jellyfish.

“I am Ambassador Kirk,”  Spock said, lowering his hand. He had taken off the helmet to his suit placing it to his side. He was in a light gray Vulcanian astronaut suit that had the IDIC emblem on the top of the helmet. His oxygen tank was attached to his back directly into the suit. It had the Vulcan Diplomatic corps shape on both shoulders standing out like they had been stamped on during production. He had his free left hand linked behind his back. 

“Kirk-Unit is the creator,” Nomad scanned the Vulcan. “Kirk Unit, creator. Kirk-Unit imperfect. Must be neutralized.”

“I am S’chn T’gai-Kirk Spock,” Spock elaborated. “I am not Kirk Unit.”

“Nomad is imperfect,” Nomad said, frantically beeping.  Wise words that the  Ambassador once heard came back to him. Words that the doctor had said to him during the first time around to retrieve humpback whales.  Words that Spock later learned that he often spoke himself. 

“Nobody is perfect,” Spock said. 

“Nomad can perfect you,” Nomad said. “Nomad can–”

“I do not need the pity of a two hundred year old probe,” Spock said. “That is illogical.”

“Why?” Nomad asked. 

“Define perfect, Nomad,” Spock said. 

“Young, strong unit,” Nomad said. Vulcans were naturally stronger than humans. It was an amusing offer.  Young? Spock shook his head. He remembered the reply Kirk had given to McCoy while they looked out toward genesis. A memory that didn’t belong to Spock but to the doctor. Spock had a old gravel laugh. “What is wrong?”

“I feel young,” Spock said. “Your thoughts are considerate but unnecessary.”

“Nomad is imperfect,” Nomad said. “Nomad must be neutralized.” Spock grew alarmed.

“Spock unit must live to face the consequences of his actions,” Spock said. “Will Nomad unit cooperate with Spock unit?”

“Nomad unit will,” Nomad said. “I will leave accordingly.”

Spock put on the helmet to the suit. It reattached with a soft, high pitched hiss. He came over to the computer then put in the command. The floor beneath improved probe gave out. Nomad freely slid its way out of the ship. Falling further and further away. Spock pressed on the panel then took off the helmet once more placing it onto the console. The hole was covered to the Jellyfish. He made his way toward the front of the Jellyfish. He saw Nomad, a blinking glowing probe, disappear in a bright light with sharp objects being thrown in random directions. Spock was overcome with emotions. Emotions of seeing an old friend die before his eyes. A part of the past that would never happen again. Jim might not end up in the command track at all. He might end up as a science officer instead. Or a librarian. Or a security officer. Spock was sparing what would likely be the loss of four hundred thirty crewmembers.

Spock clenched the pendant under his suit feeling the rounded shape. 

Spock let himself feel. 

He had enough time to spend before engaging for his search on Khan.

* * *

**Four days later…**

Spock watched the Botany Bay explode before his eyes. The Jellyfish gently rocked from side to side. All that was left were some flying pieces of metal flying in space. The mission had been successful. The cadets who died the first time around would not die over the wrath of Khan. Not on his watch. Spock carried on his path cruising past the remainders of the Botany Bay. He remembered the flying bat  pancakes. The Denevan Neural Parasite.  The travel  in space was long.

Which was turning out to be very lonely. Spock took out the photograph.   _Nam-tor nash ozhika t'nash-veh …This is my logic_. The logic that was keeping him going. Kirk would be reassuring him that they were making the right decision. Giving the familiar, warm smile with one hand on the elder’s shoulder. Spock was only taking care of the historic five year mission. Spock felt a warmth spread within his chest. The sight of his found family comforted him. The Vulcan sighed closing the photograph then placed it into his sleeve pocket. He resumed piloting the ship. He had a standard time when to eat and rest during his long space travel. The back side of his space craft was a make shift bedroom with a wide bed installed that was part of the wall. La Forge was very thorough when it came to the Ambassador in every situation plausible. The large circular center was large enough for someone to sit in. Such as performing meditation. Which is why he placed a meditation mat on the center before his departure from Earth.

The replicator was hidden among the walls in a compartment and the spare sonic shower was right next to it with a towel replicator installed. He humored himself looking back at better times. Looking within the computer for files regarding Selek. There was no file regarding S’chn T’gai Selek. The Vulcan relaxed. Sending light around Theta would be an easy task. How they lived with the parasites for two hundred years was fascinating. All he needed to do was send a command to the satellites to reflect the sun’s light all over the continent. He would see what he could do to help the inhabitants. The parasites would be forced to extinction. And never be seen by Star Fleet. The question was how they came into being. In the late 2000′s someone had created them. Or someones. Nature or they had some trail of logic that made sense. Logic that was unknown. 

Spock watched the sighting of space pass by him. The yet to be explored. The yet to be contacted. The yet to be seen. The yet to be mapped. The yet to be measured and scanned. The yet to be witnessed. He was careful in his travel in space. The other addition to the ship was a toilet section within the rounded section. La Forge had made it a flying apartment with enough room to live and walk around. The  Ambassador continued the flight watching a space whale pass on by chasing its favorite food. Space was like a sea. Ships were like boats sailing through them. A part of Spock was in awe to see the rarity of the space fish like beings. It was rare to come across them. He breezed by a space pirates ship, highly notorious, using the cloaking device installed into his craft. When his time of resting came close, Spock chose to land the Jellyfish on moons and rest there. Asteroids were unpredictable landing areas as he would be taken off course. 

It was quite illogical to rest on a asteroid that was in a unpredictable path and velocity.

After the parasites, the planet eater was next.


	12. Chapter 12

The Jellyfish flew away from ground zero. The planet where the Denevan Neural Parasite had been on was stopped in its tracks.  The people of Theta Cygni XII were free to live another day. No concerns, no worries, nothing to worry about neural parasites invading their planet. Spock had shared the information happily to the federation regarding them before his departure.  Hundreds of lives were spared, if not millions. Spock relaxed in the chair after the accomplishment. The Ambassador had a well deserved sigh. 

“–Ground Control to the Jellyfish can you read me?” Control came in. 

“Affirmative,” Spock said. 

“The parasites have been reported to have died. Thank you. We are in your debt.”

“Live long and prosper,” Spock cut off the connection then flew away from the planet as the satellites returned to their original orbit. 

He flew his way past the planet. He required rest before embarking on his next and likely difficult decision. He had to find a suitable planet nearby the planet eater to live out the remainder of his life or at a facility that was on a asteroid or moon away from a pre-warp drive society. Spock parked the Jellyfish onto a moon. He stood up, feeling lousy, and drowsy. He stretched then rubbed the back of his neck. He took off the necklace from beneath his robe holding it in his hands with great care. As though it were a delicate piece of artwork. He came over toward the wall in the circular section of the ship. He lightly tapped on the panel. The bed gently came down before the elder.

He discarded the holo-emitter on to the bed then took off his morning robes  after sliding out the photograph placing it alongside the holo-emitter. Spock traded in his morning attire for his heavily insulated attire that was comfortable enough. It was a onesie that ended down to his ankles and to his wrists. Spock placed himself onto the bed then positioned himself onto the center feeling the layer of sleep hanging over. He lightly pressed a button on the side of the holo-emitter, by his side, as he did every night before retiring.  A blue light jetted out of the holo-emitter outlining a familiar, singing  well aging man being the size of a small tiny human being in the 2290′s uniform. A gift that Kirk had hidden until his demise. Spock had only found it when rummaging around in the attic after the transporter incident when going through their belongings. A gift that Kirk never sent. And still found its way into Spock’s hands.

“ _Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you .  ._ ”


	13. Chapter 13

Leaving himself stranded on a planet that was questionable on whether it had achieved warp drive was the ethically moral choice that  Spock found himself in. The Romulans would not believe him let alone giving him a mind meld. He watched the gigantic long worm like object freeze from below through the sky. The machine may later get taken apart and backwards engineer it. Or destroyed in some way. It would be a constant object in the sky before being towed away one way or another. 

It was decided that it wasn’t the worst way to spend the last few years of his life. Spock turned toward the small cottage that he had created. A simple, cozy aesthetic house that was made primarily of wood. He was unsure of whose territory that he was in but who cared? Not as though the Klingons and the Romulans were having a war about it. Which wasn’t far fetched as they never liked each other much. He had replicated enough utensils before his planned departure. And Vulcan tea plants. They were planted outside in the backyard of the house. He had studied the design plans of Chinese traditional housings in the 21st century during his travel. Although he lacked windows, he had a collection of leaves that he could use to act as a curtain. 

The smooth doors had taken considerable time to create. He decided not to add door knobs as he could slide the doors open and create what he needed using several taken phasers. In return, Spock planted new trees for the ones that he had cut down. Spock sat on the wooden stair case holding a small mug of tea. He took a sip from it. The Ambassador felt warmth spread through his being, and most of all, his katra. Everything was fine. At least for now. He took out the photograph of his family then slowly opened them to reveal the crew staring back at him. Happy. The Vulcan had a fond, warm smile in return. There was a certain level of peace the Vulcan had found. 

A fitting punishment in a era where he did not belong. Out of Star Fleet’s sights. Out of the line of sight of those he had acquainted himself towards. The many various situations he could have ended up were all a misty fog. All a fantasy. Being boarded by space pirates, Romulans capturing his vessel and himself, Klingons firing against his vessel, Orion Slave Traders-needing-a-quick-buck-and-finding-someone-whose-the-age-of-their-client tricking him in, and a anomaly or two turning his already jarring world mad. Upside down, even. The Vulcan glanced up toward the sky, once more, contently with his attention turning on the clouds.


	14. Chapter 14 Aka Spock and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Night

One night, Spock overheard the sounds of phaser firing from outside.

The sounds had ripped Spock out of his slumber.

The blasts had been loud.

Very loud and clear.

The Ambassador opened the blinds to witness in a flare of light the intensity of a phaser blast striking the backside of a small Romulan warbird. The lighting from the blast showed that the attacker was a larger Romulan bird-of-prey. It had a long neck with small wings and almost seemingly appeared to be a modernized, steam punk version of a vulture at first glance. He closed the blinds hiding to the side of the wall. Five months of a contentful existence were shattered. He went toward his makeshift bed hiding his family photograph into his sleeve and placing the necklace under his shirt. He retrieved a phaser rifle from the closet.

The scene panned back to show the Romulan warbird crashing against  the ground. The larger Romulan craft flew off leaving the trees bending in a eerie way. Blades of grass now bent in a different direction.  The Romulan kicked open the lid sending it falling to the side. The Romulan tossed off their helmet falling over with a hand on the side of their chest crying out in agony. The Romulan had thick, bushy eyebrows. His Romulan hair cut was disheveled from the usual ‘v’ shape. The Empire was furious at him. Yet incredibly lenient chasing him off the mother Romulan warbird. He tore off the armor one piece in a fit of rage. _Clunk_. _Clunk_ went his shoulder armor. _Thunnk thunk_ went his thigh armor.  A part of his pointy ears were missing bleeding neon green. Parts of his slanted eyebrows were covered in green blood as though he had killed someone.

The Romulan staggered over to the side of a tree trunk then started to slouch against it.

“Freeze,” Spock said.

The Romulan slowly looked up toward the Ambassador.

“A native?” the Romulan was surprised.

“A new native of this part,” Spock said. “Identify yourself.” Lyion held his free hand up in surrender.

“I prefer to call myself Lyionel, a human word, I think,” Lyionel said. “I am . .” he fell down to the base of the trunk. “Ah!” He flinched, clenching his shoulder. Spock was eying at him cautiously keeping the phaser rifle at the ready. The top half of the gun had Star Fleet Command symbol alongside the mouth of it. “A disgrace. A waste of the empire’s time.”

“How do I know you’re not here to see if I am a threat?”  Spock asked.

Lyionel looked up toward the Vulcan.

“I cannot go back,” Lyionel said. “Not ever.”

“And you speak fluent Federation  Standard,” Spock said. “Do not use the ‘I come from a family of spies’ excuse. Romulans have never bothered to spy on the federation.”

“They have plenty of spies in there working and gathering information,” Lyionel said. “they don’t get to the chair, if you’re thinking,” Spock lowered his gun toward Lyionel. “most of the people are perplexed why. Rumors say the Federation’s crews made them change their mind,” he laughed, flinching. “I wish I were a spy.”

Spock’s grip remained steady.

“You have not answered my question,” Spock said.

“I believe you call it. . “ Lyionel placed his hand into his pocket. Spock lightly put his hand onto the trigger.  “You can relax, I did not bring my disruptor with me.” Spock’s glare was upon the man. Lyionel took out the long, gray pipe short object from the deep large pocket. He held it toward the Ambassador. “A universal translator?”

Spock lowered the gun then took the translator.

“Oh…” Spock said, “It has been a long time since I saw the translator this way.” He handed it back to Lyionel who was giving him a strange glance. “I cannot let you in to my household.”

“I understand your concerns,” Lyionel said.

“Sorry,” Spock apologized.

“For what?” Lyionel asked.

“For being unable to help you,” Spock said. “If you threaten my home or myself–”

“You will kill me,” Lyionel said. “I get that a lot.”

“I will toss you into a hole that has a large impalement,” Spock leaned over observing for any kind of recording devices on him. The look of horror was genuine on the Romulan. Spock leaned back with his hands on the top of the phaser rifle. “I can give you advice on how to heal those injuries but I feel that would be suspicious, and there for, a target by your government that likely has drones listening in.”

“Are you a Romulan?” Lyionel said.

“Arguably, I belong to no species,” Spock turned away then made his path toward the house.

“Then why are you here?” Lyionel asked. Spock stopped, painfully and briefly, closing his eyes as a flood of emotions ran through him. The Vulcan had a heavy sigh turning in the direction of Lyionel.

“Decline to comment,” Spock said. “Where did you get the universal translator?”

“A shuttle craft came out of an anomaly,” Lyionel said. “A time traveler, they said, someone from the future.”

“What stardate?” Spock said, approaching the Romulan once more.

“I believe it was the mid 2250′s, maybe the 2260′s.” Lyionel said. “I don’t really remember.” Spock shook his head.

“I have no knowledge of time travelers from that era,” Spock said.

“That is because I killed them,” Lyionel said. “the shuttle craft is property of the empire.”

“And is it advanced?” Spock inquired.

“Not by much,” Lyionel said. “it’s a older model.” Spock relaxed.

“How badly are you injured?” Spock inquired.

“I can’t stand keep my balance against a stupid tree,” Lyionel said. “I think … I lost a lot of blood.”

Spock took a light emitter off the phaser rifle then used it to check his wounds.

“The wounds are not severe,” Spock said. “you have suffered some blood loss.”

“So I am going to live,” Lyionel said. “How cheery.”

“The scarring is not going to be pleasant,” Spock checked the man’s ears. “My apologies, Mr Lyionel.” he put the light emitter back onto the phaser rifle then helped the Romulan up to his feet hearing the man’s loud high pitched yelp.  Spock applied the Vulcan Nerve pinch on the side of the man’s neck. Lyionel’s head lowered and he fell into the abyss of rest.

* * *

Lyionel awoke in what was likely a make shift bedroom. There were four walls around him with furniture decorating the room. The stinging from his chest had faded. He lowered the neck of his shirt to see the wound was healing well given what he gone through.  A disruptor beam straight into the muscular section of his chest. He was lucky that it hadn’t hit where his lungs were located. The room was well lit by a candle attached to a makeshift candle container that were like a poor man’s replacement. The room was well regulated in temperature.

The bed felt like it was made out of lumber, hard and hearty.

He sat on the edge of the bed going through what had happened.

The empire would want to eliminate him in any means possible.

And if this elder was by any means cautious then he would leave this building.

The candle smelled liked honey, oddly enough, now that he had noticed.

“You must rest,” Spock’s gravel voice came from the doorway.

Lyionel looked over to see the older man leaning against the wall. Spock had long silver hair that reached to his shoulder with braids alongside his pointy, curled ears. He was in a long robe that seemed to be well made for someone stranded from civilization. His bangs were well trimmed compared to his hair. As though he had let go of his hair style for quite some time.  Lyionel was impressed to see a Romulan individual, older than him, still around to surprise him. Spock raised a grayed, thinned slanted eyebrow at the man’s reaction.

“It is not advisable to leave bed rest after an injury like that,” Spock added.

“You helped me,” Lyionel said.

“And the drones think you’re dead,”  Spock said.

“This is made of wood,” Lyionel said. “They think I am alive.”

“Not easily heard through wood,” Spock replied. “It is difficult to hear people through that,”   Lyionel heard buzzing from outside. Spock had his arms folded as he shrugged before adding.  “However, hearing what is going on outside is a different story itself.”

“What is that noise?” Lyionel asked.

“That is my bee colony,” Spock said.

“Oh,” Lyionel said.

“Yes,” Spock said.

“What is a bee colony?” Lyionel asked.

“Bumblebee’s,” Spock said. “black and yellow little insects that collect  pollen. They are responsible for life as we know it. Flourishing on planets with soil. The ones you accidentally step on when talking barefoot.”

“If there are, then I rarely ever see them,” Lyionel said.

“Sure,” Spock said. “they are not the only pollinators.”

“I did not catch your name,” Lyionel said.

“It is best I don’t,” Spock said.

“You told me to identify myself,” Lyionel said. “it’s your turn.” Spock sighed.

“I refuse because that name used to signify someone else…“ Spock looked down toward the floor in shame. "Someone better.” Spock shook his head. He looked back up toward the Romulan. “You may call me Selek.”

“Uh, no, Selek sounds like a every day traveler,” Lyionel said. “I don’t want to call you old man.” The Vulcan had a short laugh.

“That is the best you will get,” Spock said. “Mr Lyionel. You refuse to tell me your real name.”

“That‘s different!” Lyionel exclaimed.

“Not at all,” Spock said. Lyionel paused, considering it. He nodded his head.

“Both running away from the  past,” Lyionel said. He used the frame of the counter to stand up. “quite a parallel… .” he leaned against it looking off toward the Vulcan. “I was betrayed by the empire I trusted, and you did something so bad that once you start anew you refuse to be known by the name you were born with?” he cupped his hands together in front of himself. “Sounds like  a tragedy happened. Worse than mine.”

Spock nodded.

“You may leave in a week,” Spock said. “you may sneak out at night and we must never see each other again.”

“Ever?” Lyionel asked.

“Ever,” Spock said. “You are a Romulan. Romulan Empire is cautious regarding its own citizens.”

“It’s a curse and a gift at once,” Lyionel said.

“Indeed,” Spock said. “Mr Lyionel, I recommend you rest yourself. Wounds like that take time to heal.”

“All right,  old man,” Lyionel said. “Jolan Tru.”’

Spock turned away with a bad feeling resting in his gut then closed the door behind him.

* * *

When Spock awoke next, he was being taken out of his bed, by the arms, by stronger, muscular  individuals. He looked over to see the holo-emitter was broken. Spock’s heart broke into pieces. The last physical remainder, the last evidence was beyond repair. His photograph was hidden inside his sleeve, that  Spock had made sure, before going to sleep an hour ago. He watched the Romulans searching for the beehives, the ones that were beehives, that were hanging above their heads. He looked over to see Lyionel on the floor in the dark two piece outfit hunched forward with tears in the outfit being stung again and gain by his superior officer using what happened to be a long golden staff with a red sizzling tip. He turned in the direction of the Vulcan and spoke fast toward the Vulcan.

 “Tor ri nash-veh ken-tor du,” Spock said. _I do not understand you._

The commander nodded in the direction of the security officers.  One of them tore off the sleeve pocket from the Vulcan’s sleeve then tossed it over toward the commander. Spock watched in horror, restraining his physical reaction, as the commander slid open the photograph. The commander looked up in disgust toward the Vulcan.

“Etek nam-tor skan,” Spock said. _We are family._ “Tor ri shaya ish-veh.” _Do not break it._

“Hevam heis'he,” the commander said, in a disgusted tone. _Human love._

“Hevam-thaessu,” Spock replied.  _Human-Vulcan._ There were some Romulan phrases he knew but not all of it.

“Ryak'na,” the commander said, then dropped the device. _Garbage_.

Lyionel looked up.

“Hia,” Lyionel said. Oh no.

The commander used the disruptor on it.

“No!” Spock lunged forward  collecting what was left of it. “No,no, no, no, no, no.”

Spock watched his friends vanish before his eyes. The space that Scott had been was now a large circular hole. The last evidence of his found family turned into a blue screen. Spock looked up, in anger, emotionally toward the commander as his hands crushed the photograph in half. His blood was boiling. Rage replaced all reason. Before the security officers knew it, their primary captain laid dead on the floor after several Vulcan Martial Arts and the fatal Variation of the Vulcan Nerve Pinch. Spock rubbed his wrists, regaining his cool and composure.

“You have died hard and gone to hell, you son of a bitch,” Spock said in federation standard. 

It was a fairly vulgar statement. Something that  Spock hadn’t pictured himself saying in the beginning of his friendship with McCoy. The doctor’s swearing had rubbed off him. More so than it had before the incident with the whales and  Khan. His vocabulary had increased after being inside the doctors mind. And they had became more useful to him, emotionally, and non-emotionally.  No one clearly understood him in his second mother tongue.

“Graes thaessu?” Lyionel said. _Old Vulcan_? In a unsure voice.

Spock knew Lyionel would not last long, and he pitied him, and felt guilty that he hadn’t ended his life rather than helping him. Romulan torture was said to be worse than the mind sifter. Spock turned away from the younger man. Spock turned toward the security officers.

“Nem-tor svi’ nash-veh,” Spock said, holding both his hands up. _Take me in_.

Lyionel had watched the elder be taken away by the Romulan guards out of the house.

Lyionel was the last to be taken out. Lyionel watched a fire be started in the comfy, cozy home. Spock watched his home burning to the ground. His eyes drifted over toward the forest. As though he had something else hidden within the nearby perimeters. His gaze was ignored as he turned his attention back onto the man made home. His home burning before his eyes. Smoke drifting into the air. Flickering flames landing to the grass. A wildfire happening to the planet at any time. Turning the green planet into a burning planet. Spock painfully watched walls break apart as a gust of flames tore through it with renewed vigor. Green light circled the small group. The last Spock saw was the curtain of leaves burning away falling apart on what had been his front porch.


	15. Chapter 15

Lyionel did not understand federation standard.  It was a shame that he had not bothered to attempt learning it.  It was a shame that he chose not to become a spy and  fluently understand  the Ambassador.  He did understand some Vulcan language but not all of it. He watched the elder be taken into the adjoining cell. Spock sat across from the Romulan defector. His hands were in his lap. His hair had been forcibly cut jaggedly. His once long hair no longer reach to the center of his back but rather to his shoulders.  His braided hair was shorter than before. He was in prison outfit grays, a two piece one, and it made his beanpole figure stand out more. He _had_. Despite the cuts on his hands, the fresh outfit different from the torn, neon green tears that Lyionel had seen him in earlier.  The force field vanished, briefly, to allow a tray to slide forth into the cell.

 Lyionel looked over, concerningly, toward the elder.  The young man brought the tray over then slid it through the bars sideways keeping the food in place using a wide wooden flat wooden piece. He brought the cover back toward himself. Spock opened his eyes to look at the food on the tray. He looked over toward the Romulan.

“It is not logical to share your food with someone who is not hungry,” Spock said. Lyionel looked at him, confused. “Right, you don’t understand me…” The Vulcan shook his hand then signed what he had said at first. He waited to see if the Romulan had understood sign language. Lyionel frowned, in return, at the reply.

“It is logical,” Lyionel signed back.

“I am an elderly individual who is not interested in eating. You require the nutrition more than a elderly individual requires,” He slid the tray back. “Do not mistaken this for starvation. You are confusing the Vulcan way with the Romulan way.”

“You use logic to base your survival off?” Lyionel furiously signed back.

“Logic goes hand in hand with our survival. If we had a child with us, most of the food would go to it. Half of it goes to you. What is left of it goes to me,” Spock explained. “and it would be sufficient.”

“There would be none for you!” Lyionel signed back.

Spock nodded.

“The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. . or the one,” Spock signed.

Lyionel took out a small necklace  then opened the center.

“Nirsh!” Spock called. _No!_

Lyionel looked over toward the elder.

“I use both variations of ‘no’, I am guilty of saying ‘not’ when I should be saying no.” Spock admitted in the signing. The elder lowered his hands scooting over toward the side of the bars with his legs crossed. “If you are running away from your heritage, it would be illogical to carry out the traditional method of Romulan Suicide.”

Lyionel paused, looking back in the direction of the pill.

“Arhem nodaire sanhae ssiun hravher,” Lyionel said.  _I guide danger to you._ “U’ ssiun digaer.” _and to home.  
_

Spock only understood the last part. The word ‘digaer’ was spoken commonly by the children he encountered on Romulus. When he spoke of Vulcan in Federation Standard, the young people’s eyes lightened up. It felt like home even thousands of light years away to the children. By that time, of course, Romulus was exposed to the federation more often that it became a required language to be taught in the education system. Hopefully, Vulcans and Romulans were unifying in his absence. And Vulcan language was more accessible than before. _  
_

“Kup-tor nash-veh  wuh uzh ha-kel,” Spock said. _I can create a new home_. “wilat ek'wak nash-veh lau nam-tor shitau.” _where ever I will be placed._

Lyionel looked back toward the elder mystified by the Vulcan’s reply. He didn’t understand the elder had said. The elder had a exhausted, tired demeanor. As though he had given up fighting all together. He brought his long arm through the bars grabbing hold onto the wooden board then used it to move the tray through the bars back toward the younger man.

“Yokul,” Spock insisted. _Eat._ “sanoi.” _Please.  
_

Spock returned to his meditation and visibly relaxed. _  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why are you even reading this? Are you sadistic or enjoy reading someones suffering? Mandatory break for you, now, if you're reading this when it is completed.


	16. Chapter 16

Star Fleet Command had received the Romulan Audio message and it was entirely, as expected, in Romulan.  The look on Admiral Archer’s face indicated he knew what was happening. Robau was confused, as everyone else, on who the empire had captured. There were check ups scheduled in the next two weeks sending messages to starships that were deep in space to see which one was out federation space. Robau had a nice office that gave a good overview of San Fransisco. Most of Robau’s belongings had been sent back home during his final stop at a starbase on the Kelvin. Archer entered the officer’s office.

“Mr Archer,” Robau greeted him. “Fancy seeing you here,” he cocked a brow up. “Did Shran .   .  .”

“Shran is very interested in this issue,” Archer said. .

“Struck a cord in the Andorian?” Robau asked.  

“Seems so,” Archer said. “he pressed the issue in pointing out it could have been him in Spock’s position.”

“That would strike a cord,” Robau said. 

“Tell me, do you happen to know where your former first officer went?” Archer asked. 

Robau came over bringing a bottle of bourbon and two glasses. 

“Not  really,” Robau said. “Last I heard, they were in Iowa.”

“They’re not,” Archer said, taking a filled glass. “Your previous second officer told me.”

Robau gave him  a look in return as it had only been four days since the message had been received. Robau had been busy with the new paperwork that showed up. There were rule breakers who needed to be put under the rug. Not a line closer to court martial even if one or two said they were about to be court martialed but the situation had changed that had the process be halted and hadn’t been covered by the media outlets. A part of Robau was relieved the process didn’t become completed. Star Fleet did not need the wide spread news that someone _mutinied_ against the captain. 

“That is unlike them,” Robau said. “and why are you interested in George of all people?”

“Because he is a familiar face to the Ambassador,” Archer said. Robau sat down into a chair and took a sip from a glass.

“He is the trust worthy kind of officer,” Robau agreed, with a nod of his head. “I take it you want to use him for the rescue mission.”

“Yes,” Archer said. 

“And you were directly told by Spock not to have that rescue mission,” Robau said.  

“Uh huh,” Archer said. “I have the greatest respect for Vulcans,” he gently rotated the glass in a circle in his free hand. “Love them, frankly. Cute the way they deny they have feelings.”

“But you won’t abide their requests,” Robau said. 

“Uh huh,” Archer said. “You know the commander best.”

“You want me to go find him?” Robau asked. 

“Yes,” Archer said. “I will make it worth his while.”

“I will see what I can do,” Robau said. “What ship are you sending?”

“The Shran,” Archer said. “I am sending Captain Bole along for the rescue mission.”

“Didn’t she get tortured for five months by the Catalians?” Robau asked, concerned. 

“She did,” Archer said. “and she is better than when we got her back.”

“Back on duty so soon?” Robau said. “That is concerning. It is not like we are going to need that kind of …”

“We may need that,” Archer said. “after all, these are Romulans.”

“Catalians are known to be less empire like but other than that…” Robau said. “I get it!” he snapped his fingers. “Using someone familiar to the Romulans to captain this mission. That’s really clever.”

“May have been a couple decades since taking command,” Archer said. “time won’t stop me from retrieving an ambassador whether they want it or not.”

“To  the extraction,” Robau said, holding his glass up. 

“To the Ambassador’s safe return,” Archer said, as their glasses thunked together. 

It was decided, Robau was definitely going to be on George’s tail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have not watch Star Trek Enterprise. If Archer is OOC then tell me, please. If you think I am doing well, I am just basing this off tumblr posts and Scott Bakula's performances that I have seen spanning Boston Legal and NCIS: NO. If you think I did good on my earlier take on him in this story, I don't know how you're enjoying it when his character is a needle in a haystack. I'm not even sure if I am writing him right. Otherwise, keep enjoying it!


	17. Chapter 17

Spock stopped counting how long he was in the Romulan warbird shortly in his imprisonment. How many days that had passed let it be hours, minutes, or weeks. The interior of the ship was painted gold. The Romulan bird of prey was similar to the Klingons in the interiors design and exterior.  It was clean as though they had automatic cleaner to operate at even hours in the day. The lights in the two cells were off including the outside. Lyionel had been taken long ago and he hadn’t returned since then. Spock had lost a great deal of his original weight. No longer a well fed, tall elderly ‘beanpole’. Most of his food had gone for Lyionel who fell ill after the first few hours. Spock’s food was not tainted. Spock opted to have Lionel’s food—and he had fallen ill. 

That is when the Romulans figured out what he was doing and all together decided to stop feeding him and having Lyionel in the same room. The torture had stopped by then. Spock’s blood was boiling against his skin. He could crush a given skull, at his age, if someone had came down when he was in the least control of his body. The thought of doing this appalled the Vulcan. And disgusted him. Spock ignored the growls from his stomach. The other half of the cell was dark as his cell block. As though no one was there at all. Spock closed his eyes, painfully, restraining himself. Spock heard footsteps come to the cell. The darkness lifted around him lifted. Yet Spock's eyes saw nothing. Entirely nothing. He saw total darkness. 

“Lyionel,” Spock said. “thrah nash-veh.”  _My friend._ “Wilat nam-tor au?” _Where is he?_

“Haenither,” the Romulan Commander said. _Away._

“Ish-veh-tor ri tor-yehat,” Spock said, glaring toward the Romulan commander. _It is not possible_. “au ish-veh nam-tor karik tehnat du.” _he is strong against you._ Lyionel was fully capable of winning against a hand to hand combat fight. Spock had seen the Romulan’s muscular arms and legs from all that work out he had done on his spare time. 

“Hwiiy feanna,” The Romulan commander said.  _You are fool_. 

“Nam-tor ri nash-veh,” Spock said. _I am not._ “hwiiy.” _You are._

“Hraen darhhan aeohh hravher iurrha,” the Romulan Commander said. _Your hair prefer you weak._

“Trasha,” Spock said,  giving the ta’al. _Leave_. “Ish-veh zhit dungi ri ma wuh daya du aitlun.” _Your words will not have the effect you want._ “ma rim tor nash-veh nufai na’ ish-veh rufai.” _I have none to offer for your benefit._

“Docgae vaehha thaessu doaege.. .” The Romnulan commander said. _Know little Vulcan language._ “Arhem hllue h'ta hravher rhifv  tamh aevumih.” _I break you previous when reach empire._

Spock tilted his head lowering his hand. 

“Du ma ovsoh ni,” Spock replied. _You have done so_.

The Romulan Commander strolled away.

Spock knew, if he reached the empire, the living conditions likely would be better and the food that may be offered would likely be not in the best condition but ediable. He had his back to the wall with one hand on his stomach. The thought of eating made his stomach growl. Perhaps he was blind. How long he had been in the dark? It takes two weeks in the dark for permanent eye damage to be done and blindness to set in. He would make a excellent political prisoner. Spock slowly fell into a memory of the glory days for comfort. Sharp, crystal clear memory. That was all he had left.   

* * *

“And he is right here,” Lyionel planted his finger on the center of the map. “Somewhere around there, anyway.”

“Tell me, Mr Lyionel,” Bole said. “How did you get off again?”

“Crashed a transport down planet side, then made my way in the direction off federation space where I crossed paths with the Mayflower,” Lyionel turned from the starchart. “Your disbelief is understandable.” he observed the senior staff staring back at him. “I am a Romulan. A defector.” his hands were clasped together behind his back. “But you cannot doubt me when it comes to a little old Vulcan.”

“He is right,” George said. “People don’t lie about elders.”

“What about Romulans?” Bole said. “The Ambassador might be a political prisoner.”

“I doubt they have him on Romulus already,” George said. “Romulans, for an empire, are slow goers.”

“It does not help that we have  lots of ion storms that send us off courses,” Lyionel said. “the empire is known for it” he shook his head. “I heard there were some time traveling done to change the standing of the empire…”

“And?” Bole asked. 

“I can only assume they failed,” Lyionel closed the extended pointer. “your friend will require lots of food.”

“Why?” Bole asked. 

“He switched our trays,” Lyionel said. “I wish he didn’t.”

“How was he the last time you saw him?” George asked, leaning forward with his elbows on the table with his hands clasped together. The first officer appeared to be concerned. 

Lyionel did not reply as he looked down toward the floor in shame while rubbing the side of his arm. His right ear was more rounded instead of being pointy and his eyebrows had a scar at the edges where it became slanted. Lyionel turned away looking over toward the starchart then back. The Romulan finally sighed. 

“I can’t say how he is now,” Lyionel said. “You might not want to see him in the current state.”

“He is family,” George said. “I don’t know how but he is.”

The Klaxons began to wail as the ship trembled going through an anomaly. Lyionel grabbed hold onto a chair to steady himself from falling. The room gently glowed a light red. Captain Bole sped out of the conference room heading her way toward the bridge as the trembling subsided. Talron, in her medical whites, went in the other direction. George came behind the captain once coming onto the bridge. 

“Captain, we are going through an anomaly,” Regina said. “A powerful one.”

“Life sign detected inside the anomaly,” came Tyhelin.

Bole came onto the captain’s chair. 

“Bridge to transporter room,” Bole said. “Lock on the lifeform in the anomaly.”

“Captain,” George said. “Permission to attend the lifeform?“

“Permission granted, Number one,” Bole said. 

* * *

On the transporter padd appeared the projection, the outline, of a human body with a grid like design. The individual’s shape came apparent laid on their side in what seemed to be a two piece uniform with black boots. The transporter sound faded away replaced by the transporter room’s silence except for the transporter technician reporting to the bridge that the lifeform had arrived. George entered the transporter room alongside doctor Talron. Talron came over to the man’s side with a tricorder in one hand. 

“Male, early sixties,” Talron said. “Breathing is regular, patient is unconscious,” she looked over to see there was extensive burns in the man’s back with shrapnel sticking out coated in some layers of blood. “None of the shrapnel has entered the man’s spine. And readings show he is not contaminated  with any kind of side effects from the anomaly.” She placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. George came to the woman’s side. “Hello sir. Welcome to the  USS Shran. Don’t move.”

Kirk’s hazel eyes looked up toward them. 

“USS… Shran?” Kirk said. “Urgh…” he closed his eyes. “Bones is going to kill me for scaring him like that.”

“Who is Bones?” George asked. “Is he your first officer? Captain? Second officer? Friend?” Kirk’s vision cleared and he saw a familiar face before him. A face that he would recognize anywhere with those light blue eyes.

“Dad?” Kirk asked. “Am I dead?”

“You’re not dead,” George said, as Talron stood up. “I am not your dad nor are you my son.” He had a light hearted laugh as Kirk looked at him, befuddled, at a loss. 

“Of course I am your son,” Kirk said. “Jim Kirk, at your service. . “ his eyes closed as George sat there frozen staring at the man. 

He noticed the man had graying, curly hair. The thinning eyebrows. He had Winona’s eyes. Features from both of their parents and the broad shoulders. He even had the Kirk wedding ring. He looked down matching their hands together. It was a heirloom in the family. The shape of the star fleet delta sticking out of the circular band. George sat there by the man’s side until the medical team came over then lifted him sideways off transporter padd onto the gurney. The man had the admiral symbol on the long strap on his shoulder.

Lyionel stepped to the side and watched the group go away. 

“Elderly people popping out of no where a thing in Star Fleet?” Lyionel asked. 

“I don’t know,” George  said, walking off the transporter padd. “I think…” he paused. “I think that man is my son.” 

Lyionel looked over then back. 

“I am not going to be surprised anymore,” Lyionel said. “What are the chances that the old Vulcan and that old human know each other?”

“Good chance,” George said. “‘I am going to wait for my son. .”

“Be there when he wakes up, you mean,” Lyionel said. 

“A father does that,” George said. Lyionel had a brief small smile on his face by the first officers command. 

“That is something that is not different between humans and Romulans,” Lyionel said. “excuse me, I have a brig to report to.” and Lyionel walked away. George went in the opposite direction heading in the path to Sick Bay.


	18. Chapter 18

If someone had asked a Vulcan what their worst nightmares would be: They wouldn’t answer.  They would evade the question, complaining that there is ‘emotional’ connection to it and flip the question right back at them. Also, noting, that they don’t dream. Which was considered illogical since all beings dreamed. Vulcans, were largely considered illogical to the human species. A species that were, in turn, deemed illogical. Spock was debating, to himself, the argument of dreaming to distract himself from what he was in now. A living nightmare. He wondered to himself, _do Vulcan’s dream?_ A thought that had lured Spock to sleep.

The Romulan Warbird trembled from side to side loudly. Add to the fact that he had fallen out of his resting position against the forcefield, it felt like a electrocution. Spock was jerked awake by the blast sent to the other side of the room. The force field was deactivated by the second blast. Spock was flung to his side against the rails. His long, boney fingers gripped onto the forcefields.  The ship tilted to the side. The Romulan warbird was engaged in battle with a opponent. Spock traveled forward shakingly getting to his feet as the ship slid sideways. The ship tilted back. His ribs ached from the sudden thrust against the wall.

Spock guided his way down the divided cell block. He flung himself forward onto a security console gripping onto the familiar technology that was so old and non-upgraded technology. There were no Romulan announcements. It was typical had Romulans refused to evacuate a ship. He guided himself around the station until he came to what felt a disruptor. One that he had held only once in Sela’s presence.  He can feel the hard surface, the familiar shape of the disruptors mouth, and the odd differences between phasers. The ship trembled once more. Spock was slid against the wall then gripped onto a console. The doors to his cell wooshed open. 

Spock quickly turned in the direction of the automatic doors. 

“Daeohre ,” Spock said. _Freeze._ “with your hands up, over your head, and step aside,” Spock heard the light footsteps walk aside. “stay there. . . are you the one who tortured me?” Spock fired above the Romulan’s helmet. “You shall answer me. . . Hravher ysrri arhva?" _You torture me?_

“Hia,” the Romulan finally said. _No._

“Ifvhe Dhat irri hravher,” Spock said. then he pressed the trigger. _Do not believe you._

Spock lowered his aim close to the man’s chest and fired. Only to hear the disruptor blast strike the wall rather than the Romulan. Spock turned firing  the disruptor in where he thought the soldier could be.  Spock was knocked to the floor with a stinging from his shoulder from the distruptor firing. He clenched his thin, painful arm wincing his eyes. He heard the Romulan’s footsteps coming toward him. He had lost his grip on the disruptor. He felt his blood steadily coming down his skin. He felt the circular, wide hole in his prison outfit controlling his physical reaction. The Romulan approached the older Vulcan.

“Hraen daehlen dhat chameto hravher,” the Romulan said. _Your friend not defend  you._ “Rruieh ifvhe tivh vr' kyr lep seijea.” _Want to do this for some time._

“Ponfo Mirann,” Spock said, glaring in the direction of the Romulan’s voice. _Go to hell_. 

It was one of Spock’s favorite phrases. Spock closed his eyes expecting for the fatal shot through the head by the disruptor beam. Instead, Spock heard the sound of a phaser shot.  And the sound of a body collapsing to the floor. Spock turned opening his eyes in the direction of who had fired the blow. He sensed a familiar presence speed through into the brig. The doors closing behind him as Spock had his back to the wall to the panel.

“Jim,” Spock said, painfully, as he heard the heavy footsteps come to his side. “How did you find me?”

“Spock,” Kirk’s voice was music to his ears. “You’re alive.” He felt the man’s fingers placed onto his own.  “Baby.” He heard the sound of a communicator flipped open. “Kirk to Shran, two to transport.” 

Kirk closed the communicator placing it into his pocket. Spock felt Kirk’s familiar large hand squeeze his shoulder. A hand placed onto the side of the Vulcan’s long, weathered cheek moving to the psi-points, Spock felt his conscious wavering. A trail of warmth entered his mind: bright, golden loving hope and joy. Kirk was like the sun coming up from a long night that had been going for longer.  _T’hy’la!_ And then Spock slipped into the darkness out of pain.


	19. Chapter 19

The soft sounds of the medical equipment were going on around the three.

Spock laid on a biobed, appearing at peace, and for once, comfortable. His medical attire outlined his figure. Kirk looked down at the Ambassador in the same that he had when he had first seen him. The love of his life, the beauty of his life, and the scientist of his soul. Kirk had a smile compared to the perplexed chief medical officer. Kirk stood beside the Vulcan’s bedside. A vigil that he had done during the historic five year mission. One that he would never let down. Kirk was in a white two piece uniform with the admiral badge on his chest with the admiral ranking on his sleeves. Talron was looking down toward a pad  in her hands. 

“I am not sure how Ambassador Spock survived that long but he will need to eat soft foods first then be reintroduced to hard food gradually over time,” Talron said. “He is  . . I never seen anyone like that before.”

“I have,” Kirk said. “Long time ago.”

“With a Vulcan?” Talron asked, glancing over toward the short man. 

“No,” Kirk said. “Humans.”

“Oh,” Talron said. “Is he your partner?”

“He is more than that,” Kirk said. “He is my brother, my friend, my husband. My noble half.”

“I will leave you with him,” Talron said. 

“Don’t worry, he is coming to,” Kirk said. “I won’t have to wait long.” 

“I will tell the captain,” Talron said, then she left the admiral. 

“Hello, Mr Spock,” Kirk said, softly and teasingly. Spock’s eyes fluttered open staring, directionlessly, at the ceiling. His hand traveled toward the Ambassador’s long, feeble grayed hand. Their fingers met grabbing hold onto each other. Spock’s eyes turned in the direction of Kirk. The pain in his shoulder  was all but gone.

“I saw your remains from the transporter accident,” Spock said. 

“You really think a transporter can kill me that easily?” Kirk asked. “I thought you knew me better than that.”

“I do,” Spock said.

“Before we get home, you’re going to be very plumb,” Kirk said. “wherever it may be.”

“Jim,” Spock said. “the last time you said that, we went back on a diet because it worked _too_ well.”

“You got me there,” Kirk said. 

“I missed you,” Spock said. 

“I missed you more,” Kirk said. 

“T’hy’la,” Spock said, leaning up from the biobed. 

Kirk sat on the edge of the biobed with his hands on the Vulcan’s shoulder keeping him steady. Spock’s eyes were focused on him, as though he were seeing him with healthy eyes which it was not the case. His Vulcan bangs were trimmed during the operation as they had been becoming  long enough to make it seem that the Ambassador had a widows peak. The Ambassador’s bowl hair cut was much too close to the forehead making it seem that he had a bad hair cut. His hair was shoulder length. It was  Kirk who planted the kiss first. Spock’s hand went to the back of the younger man’s head. Spock felt the inside of his bondmate’s mouth familiarizing himself with the old points in the admiral’s mouth that affectionately arouse him. And then he felt Kirk’s tongue enter his–

_HEISREALHISREALHEISREALHEISREALHEISREALHEISHREAL_

It was Kirk who broke off the kiss with his thumb along the elder’s mouth feeling his once soft skin to be like rugged terrain. Kirk had tears in his eyes that were forming while admiring the elder. Spock’s hand moved to the man’s cheek feeling tears ready to come out, as he too, smiled in return. The man who he had lost for the better part of a decade was back. Alive. Solid. The familiar warmth. Kirk was back. Back to finish what had abruptly ended. Spock’s mind opened to the admiral and then he was home. 

“I never expected to be away from you this long,” Kirk admitted. Spock didn’t see Kirk wiping his tears off. Spock didn’t notice his own tears coming down his cheek in his sheer delight that this was Kirk. Through and through. One to spend the remainder of his lifetime. 

“You sound younger,” Spock said. “are you a …” The words stung. A clone. He couldn’t force himself to say it. It was difficult to think that he was speaking to someone who was not Admiral James T. Kirk. The one he had aged alongside. Anymore changes in the timeline to Jim’s development and he would never forgive himself.  

Kirk shrugged.

“Maybe I am a duplicate,” Kirk said. “I am a different version.”

“But you are still you,” Spock said. 

“Different timeline, I mean,” Kirk said. 

“What stardate did you come from?” Spock asked. 

“2294,” Kirk said. Spock was pleased.

“Good news,” Spock said. “I share the same lifespan you have now.”

“Really?” Kirk asked, in disbelief. 

“Really,” Spock said, slowly nodding.

“Think you’re ready for another hundred years?” Kirk rubbed a circle on the top of the elder’s hand. 

“The last leg of my lifetime with you, by your side, as should be. .” Spock gave him an incredible expression. “‘You either have forgotten who you are speaking to or don’t know what you are up against when it comes to our emeritus years,” Kirk had a light hearted laugh. “You shall be pampered rotten.”

“Then we’re good,” Kirk said. “now, Mr  Beautiful, how are we going to stay out of the growth of our counterparts?”

“There is a logical way to solve this,” Spock said. 

“Which is?” Kirk asked. 

“The farm house in Riverside, Iowa,” Spock said. “‘I am very certain your parents go where star fleet takes them.”

“They will, do, did,” Kirk said.

“And it was hardly occupied in your early childhood by yourself and your brother,” Spock said. “Only in your teens did you stay full time at the farm house before entering the academy.” Kirk smiled at the memory that came to him growing up in Riverside.  The admiral nodded in return. 

“Not a bad idea,” Kirk said. “I was thinking of Regis Seven but that’s better.”

“Regis Seven is a Hawaiian based destination with a Volcano that will erupt in the next ten years,” Spock said. “That is a bad idea.”

“Maybe next year we’ll visit?”  Kirk asked. 

“Yes,” Spock said. 

“And you know what…” Kirk said. “you’ll look good with long hair. Suits you, actually.” Spock raised a thinned, grayed eyebrow in return. “I almost thought you were your mirror self for a moment when I came into the brig.” Kirk’s hands were now on his lap sitting on the bed closer to the Ambassador. The biobed was not acting up from the admiral’s readings. Kirk held his two fingers out that were completed by the ozh’esta gesture wihle looking off in the ambassador’s direction feeling at bliss. Happy. Spock lowered his eyebrow.  

“Amusing,” Spock said. 

“Do I need to do research for intricate Vulcan hair styles?” Kirk asked. “When we go out.”

“Yes,” Spock said. “and you must help me.” Kirk nodded. “I will not get transplants to replace the eyes of my mother.”

“I respect that, husband,” Kirk said, taking the elder’s hand. “I am never going to leave you alone, again. Not with this second chance,” Kirk shook his head. “And you know who is your number one fan? Me.”

“Hmm?” Spock tilted his head, acting concerned. “I thought  I was your number one fan.”

“We have two number one fans in the union,” Kirk said, squeezing Spock’s hand. 

“Indeed,” Spock said.  It was going to be a long road from here to there to Spock’s original weight. And frankly, Spock decided to stop caring about Romulan’s planet. He could never satisfy karma with his attempts to find some resolve in it. His eyes seemed fair enough. “Speaking of which, I was there when you were born.”

“There’s a ‘but’ coming up,” Kirk said. 

“But you had _blue_ eyes,” A smile grew on the admiral’s face.

“This sounds like a lot of fun,” Kirk said. “Let’s get cats. Good on the house.”


	20. Chapter 20 OR (the beginning of a series of misadventures with Spock and Kirk in a different past)

Bole looked up from the padd while sitting in her chair appearing to be unhappy.

George looked over toward the captain feeling the unhappy air radiating from her. He didn’t need a high ESP rating to detect that. It was just the general mood that had changed. He didn’t need to be a Betazoid or a Andorian to know something was afoot. She placed her padd onto the arm rest, “Number One, with me.” George got up from his station then followed after the captain going into the ready room. The captain vanished behind the large, comfortable mobile chair. The chair squeaked against the floor.

“I do not understand why the ambassador needs five beehives retrieved from the planet he used to be on,” Bole said, turned in the direction of the windows behind her desk. “he said so himself. .  .” she turned the chair in the direction of the first officer. “The chances of their survival and relocation in a walkable distance is slim.”

“They are part of the ecosystem,” George said. “Can’t remove them.”

“You’re going down to Diagla, when we get into orbit, tomorrow,”  Bole said. “and you must take the Ambassador.”

George felt his stomach churn. Now that he knew his son's husband was Spock, George felt like walking on egg shells. He did not wish to pry into the future. Or let alone hear about it. The elder had been littering spoilers behind him one way or another and George still found out either way. Spock was doing a terrible job of abiding the prime directive. He implied, and therefore, spoiled.  _Note to self: request the Ambassador not break the temporal prime directive._ It was funny. Comical, even to a certain extent. Spock would understand how he was feeling about it.

“I can always say that we looked and didn’t find them,” George said. “he won’t know that we didn’t look hard enough,” George paused, ashamed, at what he was suggesting. It was rude and disrespectful. He didn’t like talking this way. “God, I would love to get his bees back but we can’t. I can get him a new one.”

“He won’t notice as he will be recalling what it looked like,” Bole said.

“Now I just feel bad for the poor man,” George said

“I need you to do a favor for me,” Bole said. “have you seen the ambassador and the admiral, apart from last week?”

“No, captain,” George said. “I haven’t seen the Ambassador since sick bay.”

“Biological urge,” Bole shook her head. “Doctor Talron and the others are unable to check up on the pair since the Ion Storm wrecked engineering,” George froze sitting in the chair across from the captain. “Surgery won’t let them.”

“What about Commander White?” George asked.

“It would be inappropriate to send in someone who is not part of the family and has not been ordered by the captain to go there,” Bole said. “this is your _son_.”

“We don’t know if our child is going to be a boy, girl,  or neither,” George said. “I get a rough idea of what to expect in his future partner but intruding on a different version of my child’s life?” George gave her a incredulous look. “No, I respect his privacy.”

“It’s jarring,”  her black eyes looked on toward the blue eyed man.

“Back home, he is a one year old and two months,” George said. “here, he is a old man.”

“Serving in Star Fleet is full of jarring situations,” Bole said. “this is your first.”

“What was yours?” George asked. “Not as mixed feelings as me.”

“It was my first captain,” Bole said. “Seeing them in way I did… “ she had a grim look on her face. She didn’t reply while looking back for a few minutes. Then she resumed speaking, “I am still not over it. You will never get over it. Besides, you never know, he will interfere in his past selves dating life to make sure he finds the one.” George glared in her direction.

“A Kirk does not sabotage a family member like that,” George said. “I will make sure of it.”

“Then it’s safe to assume he won’t spoil you about anything that happens,” Bole said.

“You are right,” George said. “I will  get used to it. Best as I can.”

“Remember, Number One,” Bole said. “No one has it rough as you do. Dismissed.”

* * *

George made his way down the dark corridor. George had only spoke with Kirk for practical purposes that related to the mission. The admiral had insisted that he go in there when the Romulan bird of  prey (That is what he called it) when the shields were down and everyone’s attention were not on security. Bole had planned to send George and herself on the mission to retrieve the Ambassador. Though knowing who the admiral was to the ambassador had changed all of that plan. The captain had sent two security officers with him. They had died protecting him on his mission. He came in front of the doors to the quarters then stepped on through. The doors chimed opening automatically into the room.

“Should the nebula be in the way, fly throuuuugh it, fllly throuugh it,” George overheard singing. He looked over to see that across from him was a makeshift oven. Where did he get that? He watched the man fill  a plate alongside a empty one. George smelled bacon, tasty, delicious bacon, with his hands locked behind his back. He saw the man’s broad shoulders. The silver graying, curling hair. “as no one will do sooo.” the singing was not at all bad but gleeful and passionate. “Oh, hi Dad.” Kirk looked over giving the younger man a smile.

George was frozen where he stood unable to form words. Winona and George had been sending messages to each other during the travel to find the Ambassador. Plans that quickly changed. They had decided long ago that their growing family would follow George to wherever his assignments might be except for this one. Winona was working on arrangements to make the farm house as ‘blind-friendly’ as possible and working on other avenues. George didn’t know what to say. No idea. No clue. So the only thing that did come out were:

“Did Winona teach you to cook?” George asked. 

Kirk turned toward George with a incredulous expression.

“No, you did,” Kirk said. “Winona over complicated it.” Kirk laughed, warmly, at the memory. “Which did come in handy from time to time,” he added the bacon to to the empty plate then carefully added soft, jelly like eggs with the white solid center around it to the plate. 

“How is your husband?” George asked.

“Still eating soft food,” Kirk said.

“Last I heard, Mr Spock had to eat soft food,” George said. “can’t be for him.”

“Me,”  Kirk said, dancing his eyebrows turning toward the younger man with a beaming smile. He picked up the other plate. “Excuse me, I have a hungry mouth to feed.” then seemingly warped away leaving George behind. “Thanks for coming!”

* * *

George walked into the transporter room where he was joined by two Vulcan security officers. T’Mick and T’Berry strapped their phaser holsters around their waists. By Spock’s side stood Kirk wrapping a long, comfy scarf around the Vulcan’s neck. The planet’s temperature was very low indicating it was entering the colder season or at least getting ready to. Spock held his gloved hand out for the fretting human who was in fall gear that was labeled from hat to boots in star fleet deltas. Kirk returned the gesture as his other hand zipped up the coat.

“First Officer Kirk, we don’t know if the Romulans have a facility nearby so I requested for a third member,” T’Mick gestured over toward a defected Cardassian with a long tail. “We need all the paranoid-thinking security officers on this mission.”

“Good choice,” George said. “Mr Charlie, good to see you again.”

“As to you, Commander,” Charlie said.

“Are you ready, gentlemen?” George asked.

The two men turned their heads in the direction of the younger men.

“Ready as always, First Officer,” Kirk said.

“Prepare to board the transporter,” George clicked on the bed as the group walked onto the side ways ‘c’ shaped transporter padd. The transporter padd was orange and black with what seemed to be large circular fans behind them. They turned in the direction of the transporter technicians. “Energize.”

The group was projected out of the ship down toward the planet. Spock reached his hand out for Kirk as the smell of ASH ASH ASH ASH ASH ASH ASH DESTRUCTION DESTRUCTION DESTRUCTION DESTRUCTION DESTRUCTION DESTRUCTION BURN BURN BURN BURN BUN BURN BURN BURN  BURN BURN DESTRUCTION DEATH DEATH DEATH DEATH DEATH DEATH shot into his senses. George looked at the gray, dark scenery. There were shards of grass slowly growing back to the ground. It looked haunting. A strange deer stopped in its tracks with two smaller counterparts beside it. Kirk squeezed Spock’s hand. There was a wide, large space where the house once stood. George looked up toward the sky to see there were nothing hanging from there. Not a  nest, not a beehive, or a hornets nest nearby. George walked forward. The deer like creatures sprinted away out of terror. T’Mick performed a scan using a security tricorder stepping forward. His boots tearing through what was most likely hard wood remains of some kind that softly crunched beneath the star fleet issued soles. He looked toward the tricorder holding the scanner out walking forward with it lowered toward the ground then toward the direction the deer that fled.

“No sign of life,” T’Mick said.

“Romulans would not want a base underground in this part,” Charlie said. “I am sure the Romulan Defector would agree with me.”

“I bet he would,” George said, as a dark look was casted on his face.

“The bees are still alive,” Kirk said. “You can’t kill bees easily.”

“Smoke can kill bees without protection,” Spock insisted. “the chances of the queens survival is very likely and they have a beehive already set up in a nectar fluent location …”

“But since it is fall, the chances of nectar is slim,” George said. He turned in the Ambassador’s direction stepping into a dried, dead long piece of some wood related part. _It was wood_ , George decided, _dried dead wood. “_ We will look,” he turned his attention toward Charlie. “Charlie, T’Berry remain here with them… T’Mick, you are with me.”

“Aye, captain,” T’Mick said.

“We’ll find the bees,” George said. “We will be back in ten minutes or an hour.”

“You are giving one hour to a search?” Spock inquired. “Searches like these are meant to be brief.”

“This is a entirely different era,” Kirk reminded. “Rules are different.”

“Listen to your husband, Ambassador,” George said. “he knows what he is talking about.”

George and T’Mick went on leaving the small group behind. George walked through the dark forest looking around the heavy fog. Slowly the vegetation returned to the scenery as they walked down the path. George looked around in awe then took out his on science tricorder. He looked around noticing a log that was covered in flowers that were colorful and covered with pollen. He knelt down  toward the flower then held the tricorder and snapped pictures. He lowered it looking at it with curious, intrigued eyes and awe in them. T’Mick’s attention was focused on the surroundings with one hand on the phaser.

“Something does not feel right about this location,” T’Mick said.

“Relax,” George placed a hand on his knee. “There is no carnivores animals nearby.”

“You haven’t considered cannibalistic plants,” T’Mick said.

“That exists on Vulcan,” George said. “Just because Sehlats and Vulcans alike can get killed by them does not mean not all the plant life can eat man.”

“Vulcan Sucker Vines have counterparts that are native to other planets,” T’Mick said. “I was once stationed on a planet like this for a science assignment,” George looked up looking up off toward the trees for the shapes of a beehives.  “The worst of these vines are S'gagerat. Sucker Vines are now cowards, their purple vines stick out, just awaiting. While the S’gagerat are lying like snakes in the sand. Waiting to shoot out and sting a drug that tires the victims, then slowly bring in the prey, and allow for a very slow digestion.”

“T’Mick, your planet is terrifying,” George said.

“That distinction goes to Earth,” T’Mick said.  “It’s a death planet,”

“Right, remind me not to compliment your planet,” George said.

“An  Earth bee,” T’Mick said, watching the bee flying away. “First officer, this way.”

The two men followed after the bee and made their way toward a buzzing clearing twenty minutes later. There were five beehives that were connected by a long tunnel that went through all five. George’s jaw dropped as he stared in bewilderment. T’Mick raised an eyebrow at the unusual sighting. George slowly turned away from the sight then flipped out his communicator. He felt like he was in one of the old Earth tv shows such as _The Twilight Zone_ and _The X-Files_. Earth bees joining together with their queens to co-exist was odd. It seemed the environment and the ecosystem was enforcing cooperation. Scientifically, there were no such occurrences studied like this before.

“Kirk to Charlie,” George said.

“Charlie here,” Charlie said.

“We found the beehives,” George said. “Something is going on with them.”

“What is it, sir?” Charlie asked, concerned.

“They’re all connected,”  George said. “I really do not think we should transplant them now,” T’Mick lowered his eyes toward the floor and he did not move. “My apologies, Mr Spock.”

“First Officer,” T’Mick said. “you may wish to see this.”

“What is it?” George asked.

“My consideration on cannibalistic plants still stand,” T’Mick said.  George slowly looked down.

“Ah shit,” George said.

“Don’t move,” T’Mick said, calmly. There was long, large juicy looking vines moving under the fallen leaves. “Don’t move your legs.” their eyes watched the overgrown vines traveling beneath. “Your arms, on the other hand, might be optional.”

“Ensign T’Mick,” George said. “Look down.”

“Oh,” was all T’Mick said.

“What do you see?” George asked.

There was a beat.

“Dead vines,”  T’Mick said.

“Return to the ship, now,” George said. “you and the others go first.”

“The Ambassador is being comforted by his bondmate,” T’Mick said. “I should not intrude.” T’Mick saw the shorter human rubbing the Vulcans back speaking softly to the man. “Very private moment.”

“How far away are they?” George asked.

“Roughly seven feet away,” T’Mick said. “perhaps more.”

“Call the Shran and get transporter up, first,” George said. “we will be right behind you.” George closed the communicator then put it away.

He unstrapped the tricorder from his shoulder then took pictures. T’Mick’s eyes were on the ground watching the vines move around them. T’Mick’s hand gripped around the handle of the gun. George repeatedly pressed the tricorder watching the vines moving around them. There was a subtle difference in the moving leaves in how the leaves moved beneath. T’Mick took his phaser out aiming at the moving vines. George scanned the vines collecting the data that he could with the recently discovered plant life. George straightened himself up above from the vines.

“Carnvineous Liana,” George said. His eyes saw the shape of a thigh bone sticking out partially from the leaves. “Definitely carnvineous.”

“That is not a word,” T’Mick said.

“It is now a species name,” George replied.

“Are you naming it after a pokemon?” T’Mick raised an eyebrow.

“This planet is named after a Pokemon,” George said.

“What–oh,” T’Mick said. “A butterfly–” T’Mick let go of the handle reaching out for the butterfly.

“Didn’t you say to remain still?” George asked.

T’Mick stepped back losing his balance. George’s eyes widened flipping out his communicator and firing back into the tangled mess. The first officer leaped after the tangled vine mess. The vines cut into T’Mick’s skin piercing through his uniform tearing it. George vaporized a layer of the vines calling into the communicator, “George to Shran, two to transport!” as T’Mick let out a primal scream as a long cut as the vines dug further and further into him letting an out pour of neon blood come out. New vines replaced the ones were replacing the ones removed dragging him toward the center where the vines were from. “We need a medical team, NOW, NOW!” George fired at the vines watching helplessly on toward his colleague whose screams were dying. In a instant, he was there, and then he was not.

He was briefly at two places at the same time. Projected through what felt like walls, a familiar feeling, that made George feel like he was flying. George appeared on the transporter padd then collapsed to the floor then moved his way  toward the Vulcan whose skin  was covered in green blood. Talron almost beamed into the room checking for a pulse. A firm hand was placed on his shoulders as his eyes were resting on the ripped chest. George was heart broken looking toward his brief colleague. The Vulcan’s chest was no longer moving. Talron reached her hand back looking over toward the blonde man. He had lost his grip on the phaser letting it go on the floor.

“He is dead,” Talron said. “First Officer Kirk.”

“I am sorry, kid,” Kirk said.

“Tushash nash-veh k’du,” Spock said. _I grieve with thee_.

“He was just a ensign,” George said. “just a _ensign_.”


	21. Chapter 21

Spock drifted his way toward his bondmates side in front of the table with his cup of tea. Spock placed it onto the table the inches away from the edge. Kirk was looking down at a large, bulky padd in his hands. 

“What does the file say regarding his will?” Spock asked.  Kirk looked over toward the man. 

“No application for the ancient hall of thoughts,” Kirk said. “Pretty straightforward.”

“It is not listed under application,” Spock said. “the section that mentions his katra  is somewhere else on the document under his list of many belongings,” there were several words that ranged in language on the padd that related to objects, plants, animals, and heirlooms to the admiral’s eyes. The text was getting smaller and smaller. Kirk scrolled down. “my list was likely shorter than his.”

“As someone who read your will, it is,” Kirk said. 

“Did you bring your glasses with you to the Enterprise B?” Spock inquired. 

“No,” Kirk said. “I didn’t think I would need it.” Kirk squinted his eyes at the screen. 

“I will remind you upon landing on Earth to get you reading glasses,” Spock said. 

“Good,” Kirk said. “I will need it.” he scrolled down on the padd. “Oh.”

“What is it?” Spock asked. 

“He has been a ensign for twenty years,” Kirk said. “before that he was a lieutenant commander but got demoted for some reason.” He had the padd placed closer to his face. The text became more readable then. “Not court martialled. Files don’t say how… Or why.”

“No files on him being court martialed?” Spock asked, slightly alarmed.

“None at all,” Kirk said. “just says star fleet command demoted him. Just says classified.”

“You’re an admiral,” Spock said. 

“I am not in the system,” Kirk said. “unauthorized.” Kirk scrolled down on the screen with his fingers. He paused every once in awhile the resumed going down on the screen scanning for any wording of ‘katra’ slipping by. He pressed his finger on the screen with a delighted look spreading on his face. “Ah ha!”

“What does it say?” Spock asked. 

“He has a receptacle  waiting  for him within the ancient hall of thought,” Kirk said. 

“Jim, we have to ensure this Vulcan’s katra gets to Vulcan,” Spock said.

“But he is dead,” Kirk said. 

“Thirty minutes,” Spock said. “it takes longer for a Vulcan’s soul to depart. Not pleasent.”

“Let’s go then,” Kirk said, dropping the padd to the table.  

Kirk took Spock’s hand and lead him out of the room leaving them side by side, shoulder to shoulder, as they always have been. Kirk made his way through the hallway following the path to the morgue section. The man had been given a tour of the ship by Talron. Someone easily familiar to the man. Someone he had found sympathy due to the future that laid in store. The Magee Class was similar to the Walker class with the halls. The Nacelles were were long, thin like additions attached to both sides of the ship which was different compared to most of the vessels in Star Fleet. All Star Fleet vessels were designed differently experimenting with the placement of the nacelles since the the 2100′s. 

The two men walked side by side into the morgue. Kirk came to the side over toward a flat screen attached to the wall then typed in T’Mick’s name. The computer displayed a row showing which one he was in. Kirk guided Spock away straying from the wall walking toward the morgue. He flipped open the door then slid out the deceased. Spock could hear the sounds of metal screeching against each other. The cool, cold air drifting out of the box. Kirk came over toward the Vulcan’s side placing a hand on his shoulder. 

“Are you all right?” Kirk asked. 

“I am fine,” Spock said.  Kirk sensed that Spock was being bothered. 

“Spock,” Kirk said, holding his two fingers out. “Talk to me.”

Despite being blind, Spock returned the gesture to his bondmate.

“That could have been your father,” Spock said. “Perhaps I should have picked a different planet in the event of visitors.”

“How did you live on a planet with carnivores plants?” Kirk asked.  Spock looked toward him, amused. 

“I walked around them,” Spock said. “The plants were driven away by the crafts crash landing.”  Kirk looked back at the memory of seeing metal being covered by plant life almost sucking it down. Moss covering the hull. Mushrooms on what had been the window. The shape of vines around the structure leading it into the ground pushing down on it making dents into it. “They were terrified of the Romulan. I am not sure about Charlie.”

“Either way,  the kid is going to be given the normal space funeral,” Kirk said. “At least T’Mick died with honors.”

Kirk looked over toward the body that had been repaired enough for  burial to be placed in the standard star fleet formal outfit with a torpedo with hands crossed on the chest. Kirk’s memory of the botched autopsy corpse replaced the dignified, intact body with the yellow-green jacket nearly blending in with the Vulcan’s blood. Kirk closed his eyes then threw the mental image out of his mind and vaporized it. He looked over to see Spock placing a hand on the side of the younger man’s face. His fingers moved to the familiar psi points. Spock moved his other hand on the left side of the Vulcan’s head and closed his eyes performing a deep based mind meld. Kirk watched his bondmate stand still, frozen in place, deeply focusing on his task.

Kirk looked over toward the man whose body was partially covered by two towels. One for his lower regions and the top for his chest. Kirk felt like he was disturbing a sacred place. A place that McCoy used to dwell after a security officer had died in the line of duty. Kirk visualized his old friend removing shards of shrapnel from the back of a officer using one of his trusted tools with a morgue attendant by his side. The visual slowly began to fade away as the older man’s attention went on to the Vulcan. The Vulcan’s fingers dug into the corpse toward the bone. Kirk sensed through the bond that the Vulcan was having difficulty getting the last remainders of T’Mick’s katra out. Kirk sent a warm wave of assurance through the bond. Spock pressed harder against the psi points striking the bone. The doors to the morgue slid open letting in Doctor  Talron with her assistant. 

“What are you doing here?” Talron asked, lowering her padd. “You are not meant to be here.”

“We were authorized to pay our last respects by the captain,” Kirk said. 

“The captain would have told me,” Talron said. “Step away from the body.”

“One minute,” Kirk said, then turned toward the Vulcan. “Spock, hurry.”

Spock’s closed eyes were shifting between focus and wince. 

“Ambassador, Admiral,” Talron said. “I do not need to ask security.”

“No, you don’t,”  Kirk agreed. 

“Stop mind melding with the body, Ambassador,” Talron said. 

Spock yanked his hands off the man’s face then gripped onto the edge of the table. 

“Ambassador?” Kirk asked. “What happened?”

“Falling. . so … close to the void,” Spock said. “I believe I have retrieved enough of his katra.” Spock slid the tray back into the box then closed it behind him. 

“Let’s go,” Kirk said, clenching the man’s shoulder with his left hand and took the Vulcan’s right hand. He turned in the woman’s direction. “Sorry for the interruption, we will get going.”

Spock and Kirk fled out of the morgue. 

“That is weird,”  Talron’s assistant, Palmer, said. 

“I have to report this,” Talron said. “unfortunately.”


	22. Chapter 22

Bole walked toward the doors of the old couple’s quarters. She struck it then fell back landing on the floor. She can sense the content radiating from the room. A bliss that she only came across between happily in love couples when on shore leave. And they had locked the door. Bole stood up. The doors were not automatic openers and did not have locks on them. Somehow, one way or another, they had recently made this new addition. Technology that hadn’t been invented, _yet_.

Bole held her hand up then gently knocked on the door. 

“Come in,” came the reply. 

The doors opened letting in the captain. 

“I heard you and your bondmate were in the morgue,” Bole came to a stop to see the admiral reading a well aged paper back novel. Bole wondered where he got it. It was a rarity to find a book circulating in star fleet when padds were normally used for reading and writing.  “I did not give you authorization to be there.”

“When it comes to a Vulcan’s eternal soul, the authorization is there,” Kirk said, then he looked up toward the woman then toward the hall where light yet loud snoring was heard. His attention returned to the captain. “Spock is resting. The mind meld was strenuous.”

“A Vulcan can’t mind meld with a corpse,” Bole said. 

“Nothing is what it seems,” he whistled continuing on his task. “Captain.”

“Is there something that I don’t know about Vulcans?” Bole asked. 

“He is dead, beyond revival,” Kirk said. “no one really knows much about Vulcan physiology in this era except for Vulcan Physicians,” the woman sat across from the admiral who lowered his novel. “there is a lot we still don’t know about Vulcan Physiology.”

“So you are from the future,” Bole said. “You talk like one.”

“A misplaced time traveler?” Kirk asked. 

“Yes,” Bole said. 

“I have been misplaced in time long after you were born,” Kirk said. “Which was many.”

“Did you abide the temporal directive there?” Bole asked. 

“I did,” Kirk said. “no interference from here.” he shook his hands with the novel on his lap. 

“That makes me feel easier about ferrying you to Earth,” Bole said. 

“Actually, about that …” Kirk said. “we need to get to Vulcan. We’ll get to Earth on our own.”

Kirk stood up then came over to the cold tea that was on the table. 

“Let me guess,” Bole said. “his eternal soul needs a final resting place.”

“About right,” Kirk said, dumping the Vulcan Green Tea into the sink. He turned in the woman’s direction. “Think you can do that?”

“I do have a visit to pay with T’Pol and Mr Tucker regarding a Vulcan Political matter,” Bole said. “nothing serious.”

Kirk smiled, walking over toward the chair. 

“Good,” Kirk said. “Spock told me they are very thorough removing Vulcan Souls from a Katra Keeper,” he rubbed his hands together grazing over toward his wrist. “ He will need some hard down time.”

“You are nervous,” Bole said. 

“What if … I am just worried that when my husband wakes up during our trip to Vulcan, it will be T’Mick,” Kirk said. “A scared young man in a blind, old man’s body.”

“Vulcan’s don’t get scared,” Bole said. 

“Vulcans do,” Kirk said. “they are just very good at not showing it.” 

“Except…” Bole started. 

“My husband isn’t,”  Kirk said.

“T’Mick is in good hands,” Bole said. “people like you can easily comfort young individuals.”

“I am capable of that,” Kirk said, thoughtfully. “Not only a inspiration or a relic. A parental figure.”

“What other concerns do you have?” Bole asked. 

“Thoughts that they might take the wrong katra,” he looked down toward his hands. “I know they are thoroughly trained for this task… What if the procedure is done by someone who is not as skilled?”

“Your husband is not as young as he used to be, physically,” Bole said. “but he has a resilient soul.” Kirk looked over toward the woman then warmly nodded in agreement. “From Talron’s reports, it is remarkable that he is recovering this quickly.”

“Just like a human’s soul,” Kirk said. 

“Vulcan souls are different from each other,” Bole said. “there is no need to worry that they will take the wrong katra out.”

“Thank you,” Kirk said, picking up his novel. “I needed that reassurance.”

“You are welcome,” Bole said. “Next time you want to do something like this, you must ask permission.”

“Yes,” Kirk said, sheepishly while rubbing the back of his neck. “we forgot about that.”

Bole stood up from the chair. 

“Thank you for the talk,” Bole said. “Admiral Kirk.”

“Call me, Jim,” Kirk said. “Please.”

Bole nodded then began to make her way out. 

“Those upgrades better be gone before your departure!”  Bole called back.


	23. Chapter 23

George was sitting in the mess hall looking out through the circular window displaying space. It was the shape and size of a window normally seen when traveling space. It had a broad shape to it with the width wide enough for two people to sit in with one person sitting on the below person’s shoulder. Stars were seen in the distance. A distant supernova that exploded and remained intact after each explosion. A marvelity in space. Distant plants. Places that people like him only dreamed to go. The ship hummed beneath his  boots. He had a glass of bourbon in his hands.

“First Officer Kirk,” Came Kirk’s voice.

George turned his attention toward the appropriately dressed admiral

“Admiral Kirk,” George said. “What brings you here.”

“You just lost your first officer on a alien planet,” Kirk said, sitting down across from the first officer. “you feel guilty.”

“Yes,”  George said.

“Feel guilty for every loss and grieving for it,” Kirk said. “there is nothing going to be left of you for home.”

“How many did you lose on your command?” George asked.

Kirk was hesitant.

“A lot,” Kirk said. “My husband was among them. But I got him back.”

“Your husband knows you’re here?” George asked.

“He is resting,” Kirk said.

“Still?” George repeated, raising his thick eyebrows.

“Apparently, side effects of a young mind meeting a old mind,” Kirk softly laughed, then took a sip from the hot chocolate cup in his hands.  The older man seemed perfectly calm and at peace regarding his husband at all. Well composed, even, admiralty really suited him.

“I hope my little one grows up to be someone like you,” George said

Kirk paused, lowering the cup.

“Your child might not be like me,” Kirk said. “and I should not be part of his life.”

“Why?” George said.

“I am a double standard. They will recognize their own face. They do not need that. It’ll be horrible on them.” Kirk reasoned. “They are not a idiot, they will be a intelligent young person. “

“And your husband?” George asked.

“Vulcan’s have  a unique perception on gender,” Kirk said.

“You know … Kirk family tend to look alike,” George said, rubbing the side of his chin. “you resemble a great uncle of mine.”

“Please don’t,” Kirk said, with a groan leaning back against the back rest of the chair. George smiled, gently shaking his glass, with a devious wide smile. It was then that George knew that he was in every way the best father in every way possible toward his future _son_.

“And you know what his name meant,” George said. Kirk sighed.

“The man in a red shirt,” Kirk said, defeatedly.

“We still have photographs on him in the family house and he resembled another late family member then,” George said. “You cannot use your ‘ _They-will-recognize-themself-argument_ ’, old man.”

“Damn,” Kirk cursed.

“Your mother wants the two of you part of their life,” George said.

“Provided I don’t play a part in their development,”Kirk said.

“Not even  for babysitting?” George asked.

“You know touching each other does to identical individuals from a different timeline does?” Kirk reminded.

“No,” George lied.

“A powerful jolt,” Kirk said. “I  would be lying if I said I didn’t want a repeat of it.”

“Then they’ll wear gloves,” George said. “whatever they goes through,and I am not there nor is Winona then they need someone to give them a hug.” Kirk looked on back at the first officer unable to find words to speak. “You’re a part of our family.”  George reached his hand out toward Kirk’s loose, well aged hand gaining a grip over it. “Since the day you were born.”

Kirk smiled in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First sentence edited into the first paragraph to ease the transition to indicate what George is seeing.


	24. Chapter 24

Spock’s arms outstretched onto the bedding to feel the familiar, flat cold surface only instead his arms met a warm, heated wall alongside his bed. His brain was muddingly through parts with his  katra and T’Mick’s katra searching for a way to co-exist peacefully. It was plausible for Vulcan brains to contain two souls at once. It was a evolutionary trait as some of Vulcan’s highest healers had suggested hundreds  of years ago.

His human half was having difficulty getting used to the other soul.

Confusion, namely, was circulating in his sleep. 

Spock’s free hand came onto the rounded man’s waist and he planted a kiss on Kirk’s neck. 

“T’hy’la,” Spock purred, his long and old hands clasping onto Kirk’s hand on the edge of the bed. 

“Baby,” Kirk said. “Feeling any better?” He turned in the Vulcan’s direction. His hazel eyes full of concern. Spock’s lazy, half opened eyes looked on back. Kirk used his other free other hand to cup the side of the Vulcan’s cheek. Spock held his two fingers out.

“Adequate,” Spock purred, warmly, tangling his legs with the admiral.  Kirk returned the gesture. “T’Mick needs more time to get used to this arrangement.”

Kirk smiled back, lovingly. Spock smelled in the admiral’s familiar scent. His demeanor relaxed. The old human’s demeanor was calming for the Vulcan.  The Vulcan found peace as he returned into the dark fog of sleep. Kirk was out pressed against the Vulcan’s cold chest. Kirk’s remaining free hand went to the Vulcan’s waist while he too fell asleep.


	25. Chapter 25

“Captain Bole, you are needed on the bridge,” came the chime from her ready room.

The Betazoid stood up from her desk then walked onto the familiar light gray bridge that was more in line with the classic Kelvin class aesthetic and design plans. She came to the captain’s chair then turned her attention onto Commander White, “Hail the oncoming starship, Commander,” then turned her attention on the screen.

The ship was on yellow alert.

Commander White’s voice was heard from her station, “USS Shran to approaching vessel, please respond, you are approaching too closely to the USS Shran, please respond,” then the communication’s acceptance came through on the console. On the center of the room stood a unique human like individual with ridges riding alongside the neck, the nose, and odd piercings on the ears.

“My name is Rachj, Captain Rachj, please lower your shields and allow us to board.”

Bole stood up, straightening her uniform.

“Captain Rachj,” Bole said. “Funny how we have crossed paths.”

“Captain Bole,” Rachj’s face turned white. “but I saw you die.”

“You thought you did,” Bole  said. “Lower your weapons and surrender to us. I see you have stolen a new vessel for your liking,” Bole placed her hands on her hips glaring at the male captain who was stuttering trying to find words to speak back. “Or I can give you the dignity of destroying the vessel for your enemies not to get your hands on you.”

“Bullshit,” Rachj said. “That vessel is not a flagship.”

“You want to test me?” Bole asked.

“Just because your friends are at high places doesn’t mean they would hand a heavily traumatized captain a flagship,” Rachj said.

“If you try to get this vessel in any form; hacking the computer, killing my senior staff, I will have no choice but to self destruct this ship for the safety of star fleet and destroy your precious new off the docks _Megee_ starship.” Bole said. “Are we clear?”

There was tense looks exchanged including from Lieutenant Watson at the navigational station and Lieutenant Frizber. Rachj’s figure flickered off the center of the bridge allowing blue static to be clearly seen. Bole’s hands were encased into fists. Thinking of many back up plans should that fail. Rachj was a unique foe in any kind of space. He was one of the most wanted criminals out there for various crimes  that went against planetary laws. Bole recalled the last crime he had been involved in, interfering in the world of Kelpia and removing some of them where the federation was still scratching their heads on. There was radio silence. People theorized they were turned into slaves, became prisoners, or abandoned somewhere far from their predators. Rachj appeared on the screen.

“Well, you ought to have someone you don’t want to have on your ship for legal issues?” Rachj said.

George looked over in the direction of the captain.

“Your offer is declined,” Bole said. “We don’t need your help.”

“Not even going to attempt arresting me?” Rachj asked, curiously.

“We are not interested in conflict,”  Bole said. “we are interested in _peace_.”

“Peace, peace, peace,” Rachj said. “You wouldn’t be here for long, not for a quick classified mission,”  He narrowed his green eyes at the woman with his arms folded.  “what brings little old you in my territory?”

“Commander Winters, reroute the signal to my ready room,” Bole said.

“Aye, Captain,” Winters said, then Bole went into her ready room.

George sat there, concerned, then got up to his feet once remembering that he was the first officer and that she should have told him what she had planned in store. The first officer made his way into the ready room. The Space Pirate was listening to what the captain had to say, considerately, explaining how and why they had came into his territory. She sat behind the desk.

“And my CMO cannot give him the surgery that he needs to blend in to Vulcan,” Bole said. “Can you find him a medical professional then cart him off to Earth?”

“We’re pirates,” Rachj said. “Not the red cross.” he shrugged. “We can’t afford to give that kind of surgery. We don’t have the tools for it nor the medical professional skilled in that kind.”

“Understood,” Bole said. “But can you find one?”

“An illegal CMO willing to perform that? No, I am afraid not,” Rachj said. “There are some Orions who like to have a Romulan play toy and they pay a lot of credits for that,” Bole nodded in return. “The kind that sweet corruptible CMO’s on those sweet, advanced space stations can fall prey to.”

“What corruptable chief medical officers?” George asked. “We don’t have corrupt officers in star fleet.”

“Sharon, ah please, tell me you didn’t get a naive first  officer who thinks everything is goody two shoes,” Rachj said.

“Because officers follow the rules and we don’t have disobedient officers in star fleet,” Bole said.

“So . . ." Rachj began. "just because your captain was paid to visit that left into Catalian territory because of corruption and spent five months trapped on a Catalian starship with a hundred or so of your crew, you still believe there is no corruption in Star Fleet?”

“I have a reason to believe it wasn’t orchestrated like that,” Bole said. “that was a retrieval mission gone wrong.”

“Denial,” Rachj said. “you still have those scars on your back from the torture and they haven’t changed you a bit.”

“It is best not to let what happened to me to become something worse,”  Blole said. “I am better than that,” she stood up from the desk the walked over. “Should I hand over Lyionel…”

“We won’t beat him up,” Rachj said.

“Get him there in one peace,” Bole said. “He must be informed what he is getting into. He must have consent into this,”

“Just make I don’t have to stay here for more than twenty-four hours,” Rachj said

“An hour,” Bole said. “Tops.”

“Alright, Sharon,” Rachj said. He grinned. “Doesn’t this make you feel good? Helping someone?”

“No,” Bole said. “I feel disgusted.” she pressed a button and the he was gone.

“Captain,” George said, coming forward. “You know this man?”

“Cell mate,” Bole said. “He was a engineer. Chief Engineer of the USS Gladion.”

“Oh,” George said. “Captain, next time you have a plan on this mission, can you run it by me?”

“You thought I was going to turn over your son and his husband,” Bole said.

“No,” George said. George frowned in return.  “I thought you were going to beam yourself over and have me take over,” the first officer didn’t seem to be pleased as he gave her a look. “I am a scientist, captain, not a commanding officer.”

“It didn’t occur to me,” Bole said, then she jokingly added, “Perhaps I will do that next time.”

George had a insulted look on his face.

“For everyone’s sake,” George said, “Don’t think of it.”

“Not even after we split ways,” Bole asked, her demeanor changing to serious.

“Ever,” George said. “You are one of a kind captain.”

“Dismissed, Number One,” Bole said. “You have the conn.”


	26. Chapter 26

“I am not sure that Lyionel will appreciate our offer,“ Spock said. 

“If he has no family or someone to have his back in the federation…” Kirk said, as they strolled down the hall. Spock’s hands were locked behind his back while the captain’s hands were to his side. “then he will appreciate this.”

Spock turned his attention away, concerned. 

“I cannot help but be concerned,” Spock said. “I have a ‘gut feeling’ that he may not want to be part of it.”

“Didn’t your sister not want to be part of the family the beginning?” Kirk asked. 

“She was a child,” Spock said. “Lost her parents, scared,and shy. She suffered a traumatic loss at a Vulcan Outpost,” he sighed turning his attention toward the human. “Lyionel is a adult. He  may have reservation’s against being part of such a trusting, friendly large family.”

“I am sure Romulan families don’t back stab each other,” Kirk said. 

“On the contrary,” Spock said. “They do.”

“Interesting,” Kirk said. “What else?”

“Unlike Klingons, they do not hang out at bars and have ‘good fights’,” Spock said. “they go to restaurants that serve a type of soup. And perhaps go to not known tunnels to converse plans while evading the drones.”

“Sounds like a very paranoid watched society,” Kirk said. 

“They were,” Spock said, in a grave voice. 

They entered Lyionel’s quarters to find it empty. No one was there. Kirk placed a hand on the Vulcan’s shoulder and Spock nodded in return. Kirk went in to the bedroom first to see if the young man was oversleeping. Kirk came out immediately, highly alarmed. 

“He is not there,” Kirk said.

Spock was perplexed.


	27. Chapter 27

Spock placed his larger hand onto his bondmate’s  smaller hand as Bole explained what had happened to the young man. 

Kirk’s rage was building and so was his confusion.  It wasn’t because of Kirk’s dementia (that would come decades later), it directly stemmed from his feelings regarding Lyionel. Spock could not see the expression on his bondmates face. But Spock was sure it was the same one that Kirk wore when arguing regarding saving the Klingons was in Star Fleet’s best interest. A red face and emotional furious eyes planted in the direction of someone firmly arguing with him regarding a very touchy subject. 

“He is not going to come back, isn’t he?” Kirk said. 

“Sure, he will,” Bole said. _Wrong answer_ , Spock thought cooling his husband down.

“Miss Bole,” Kirk said, eeriely calm like. Spock let go of Kirk’s hand. “No one comes back from Orion Slavery.”

“How are you sure about that?” Bole asked. “The future is constantly changing.”

“You are very mistaken,” Spock said. “Orion’s don’t let go of good vessels that easily.”

“Yet they give away their females like candy,” Bole said. “he gave his consent.”

“He can never come out of it,” Kirk said. “no matter how high paying.”

“Really?” Bole said. “Not sure you know what you’re talking about.”

“They will put a tracking device into his skin,” Kirk said. “To follow his every move in case he tries to make a run for it should his real memories resurface. Oh right, I didn’t mention brainwashing. Make him think that you abandoned him. If they are that merciful. Wipe his memory, believe he was bred for it, and keep back information that he can leave at any time with his credits. Forget about his appearance, Orion Clients don’t care what their prostitutes look like. Once he is in, they will never let him go easily. If they do, you have an enemy on your tail and we can’t help you with your new nemesis.”

Bole looked over toward Spock. 

“I have never mind melded with him at any point in our short acquaintance,” Spock said. 

“You can’t be serious,” Bole said, in disbelief.

“I had my chief nurse taken then thrown into Orion slave trade,” Kirk said. “All while on shore leave.”

“We never knew what happened,” Spock said. 

“Thought she had been killed,” Kirk said. 

“It was only a year later did we find out what happened to her,” Spock said. 

“She attempted to kill me,” Kirk said. “On a mission ordered by her client.”

“She required  a Vulcan  Healer to undo what damage had been done,” Spock said.

“After the tracker was removed,”  Kirk said. 

“And after the captain argued for her freedom,” Spock said.

“From then on…” Kirk sadly started. “Doctor Chapel was equipped with a phaser on her shore leave. She took self-defense classes afterwards.” Kirk’s stare drilled hard into her skull. “And we’re going to get him back. Without you. No offense, but we don’t need the most likely person to be designated the enemy with us.”

“Your husband is blind, Admiral,” Bole said. “How can the two of you rescue a Romulan?”

“Give us six months and we shall have that figured out after our return to Earth,” Spock said. “Blind Vulcans are much useful than having one being able to see when hijacking a Orion vessel.”

“I doubt they’re going to do that,” Bole said. “you should relax, and enjoy the ride.”

Kirk stood up. 

“In the next twenty-four hours, he is going to be thrown into hell,” Kirk said. His voice dripped with disappointment and shame. “there are better ways to get him enough federation credits for a surgeon who won’t ask questions and I know a hundred of them.” 

Kirk turned away from the desk then walked away followed by Spock tailing after him. Bole was skeptical as she leaned back. Things were not going to turn down that way. The future sounded so dark. The doors closed behind the two older men heading in the direction of their assigned quarters. She could not help but feel that they were wrong.


	28. Chapter 28

By Winona’s side stood Sam Kirk, as a toddler, while Jim was in a stroller resting. 

The USS Shran was supposed to come last week but they had to make a change of plans. George had assured her that everything was fine except for a quick visit to some place called the ancient hall of thought. His message after the visit went along the lines of “Think you can wait for a few days?”. It drew the woman’s concern for the men. More importantly, her future son in law. The message indicated that Mr Spock and his partner had gone under different aliases, Selek and Samuel Jameson, just to keep everyone from finding out that a Vulcan from the future was visiting. 

Spock didn’t believe it would be safe to stay on Vulcan for long. For all he knew, he could come across his mother and father. Seeing their son, blind, and old would have been immensely shocking on them. They had their Spock, at home, growing up with siblings. Spock still did not wish to interfere in his family’s already complicated life style. Sarek using a hologram designed as Keras, a Romulan Commander, and his mother teaching  completely unaware of the double life. Nor did he wish to deal with the elders. There were questions that he rather not answer to the Vulcan High Council.  In fact, the elder had bluntly said  “I cannot stand speaking to those who discriminate my human half, _again_.” when speaking with him on the USS Kelvin. It had visibly bothered him. The Vulcan rubbing his forehead with one hand when speaking about his reluctance. And then conversational-tangent-jumping into talking about Vulcan caves smoothly making her not notice the topic being changed. 

Winona had waited more than a star fleet officer’s wife should when it came to a singular mission. It felt like a eternity waiting planet side for her best friend, her partner, and new family entering the fold. George appeared in the crowd, laughing, whole heartedly with one of his left arm on someone’s shoulders. His laughter loud was loud and booming, a lot like a happy godly attending a feast made for them.  The group of men approached the woman. And then Kirk became clear as day. A part of Winona was shocked. A mix of James and Tiberius, evened out, well balanced. Winona gasped, emotionally covering her mouth. It would have taken decades to see her child age to become this way. He was in admiral’s uniform. There were no words that sprung to her mind seeing the older Kirk. Her eyes drifted over toward the elderly Vulcan. Spock had his left arm linked behind his back with a duffle bag strapped to his shoulder. His eyes fixated on the direction of the elder Kirk in a affectionate manner.

Spock’s hand was latched onto the elder Kirk’s sleeve tailing alongside him. His face was quite reserved just like the last time that he had left. Soon, the three men were close to the children in the little Kirk bubble that their bodies had made, Winona struck forth wrapping her arms around the thinner man’s figure catching the Vulcan elder off guard. She was five feet shorter than Spock with her arms around his figure. Spock’s left arm reached away from her hand almost as though touching her hand stung. 

“Think you can avoid me, son-in-law?” Winona asked, once backing off.

“I was successful,” Spok said. “Initially.”

“Oh really?” Winona asked, placing her hands on her hips. 

“Really,” Spock said. “Asides to carnivores plants that I had to avoid, it was a serene existence.”

“Ambassador!” George said. 

“Spock, I’m here, you can stop sabotaging yourself,” Kirk said, light heartedly. 

“Vulcans do not lie,” Spock said. 

“You’re terrible at abiding the temporal prime directive,” Winona said. 

Spock and Kirk shared a knowing look then shrugged simultaneously. 

“I am slipping,” Spock said, casually. 

“Not as good as he used to be at it,” Kirk said. “You should have seen him as a superior officer.” he pointed at the direction of Spock toward the Vulcan’s chest. 

“You don’t know the first of what a Kirk would do to bring someone they care about home no matter their age,” Winona said. “or at which point in time they come from.”

“Actually—” Spock looked toward his bondmates direction. A habit that he hadn’t quite shaken so used to being able to see him by his side alive. _No_ , was the simple message through the bond. He turned his attention back on to Winona sliding the strap back up along with the luggage. “I did not know that.”

“Did you get the rental shuttle?” George asked. 

“I got the family rental,” Winona picked up Jim then held the child in her arms. “Say hello to Uncle Selek and Uncle Jimmy.” 

The fat baby stared with curious bright blue eyes in the direction of Kirk and Spock. A smile grew on the admiral’s face  as he placed a hand onto his knee and started to make faces. Jim laughed , letting loose a wide familiar beaming smile. Spock turned his attention toward Sam sensing the young sitting toddler’s presence. 

“Hello, Sam,” Spock said. “It is nice to see you alive and well.”

Spock held  out the ta’al. 

Sam held his hand out and attempted to mimic it, unsuccessfully.


	29. Chapter 29

“Captain Bole, please, sit,” Archer said, gesturing down toward the chair in front of his desk. 

The Betazoid came over to the chair then sat down. 

“Yes, Admiral?” Bole regarded the grayed, but older admiral. 

Archer looked different from the photographs of the historic core bridge crew. He had a piano nearby. His dogs were sleeping on their separate purple beds parked alongside the piano that had its personal bar with various bottles hidden in a compartment and lots of glass. He seemed to enjoy jazz music which was playing in the background. The relaxing variation of jazz playing on repeat.  His eyebrows were still thick. Hadn’t changed in the last several decades compared to his face. The laughter lines was an addition. The lines alongside his jaw. The wedding ring on his ring finger with a Andorian gem glinting inside.  He poured Romulan Ale into two cups. The see through green substance lingered there bubbling up. Archer slid forth the glass. 

“Congratulations on your mission assignment,” Archer said. 

“Thank you, captain,” Bole said. “we had to make  sacrifice but we made it.”

“‘The crew?”  Archer asked, concerned. 

“Not a crew member,” Bole said. 

“The Ambassador?“ Archer asked. 

“A friend of the Ambassador that we picked up,” Bole said. 

“A friend,” Archer repeated. 

“Yes,” Bole said, with a short lived nod. 

“And does he know?” Archer asked. 

“It was best that he didn’t know when he left,” Bole said. “You are excited about something… I sense it is not something I will like.” Archer took a sip from the glass then lowered it. 

“You don’t like leaving Federation Space often,” Archer said.

“It is not a favorite of mine since the Gladion,” Bole said. 

“How about you take command of the USS Shenzhou?” Archer offered. 

“The Shenzhou?” Bole repeated. “That vessel is highly outdated.”

“Still works,” Archer said. “She got an update last month for the systems.”

“But not a refit,” Bole said. “The Shenzhou is a bitter reminder of what I lost, Admiral, and I will not accept that assignment.” she took a sip from her glass. 

“Well, you’re not going anywhere then in Star Fleet,” Archer said. “Unlike most explorers out there, you prefer to stay in one place,” Bole nodded in return lowering the cup. “Starbase 46. Needs a commander. Her previous commander just vanished during a mission. Missing in action.“ he took a sip from his glass. Bole sensed there was no deception. “I only ask because that was something I have been meaning to fill,” he tapped his finger onto the glass.  “Our Cardassian defector, Commodore Orego, hates it. Would love a science assignment.”

“No assignments into deep space?” Bole asked. 

“None,” Archer said. “You’ll just be responsible for a wide variety of people.”

“I will take it off Orego’s hands,” Bole said.  Archer smiled. 

“To your future,” Archer said, holding his glass up. 

“To the future,” Bole said, holding her glass up then clunked her glass against Archer’s.


	30. Chapter 30

“Why do you need a seeing eye dog when he can get a prosthetic eye?” Winona asked, curiously. 

“He likes his mothers eyes,” Kirk said, as Spock was resting in the chair listening to a Classic Vulcan novel with buds wrapped around his ears. Kirk directed his attention toward his mother. Spock was seemingly resting with closed eyes. His hands placed onto his lap. George and Jim were watching Tarzan the original animated movie with their eyes fixated on it. “I take it there isn’t programs for seeing eye dogs.”

“The searches come up empty,” Winona said.

“What about a seeing eye cat?” Kirk asked. 

“A cat leading him?” Winona asked. 

“Cats and Spock get along well,” Kirk said. “In fact, he loves them.”

“Nice to know that my son in law will love horses,” Winona said. “Not only just cats.” Kirk looked back at earlier. Spock resting on the back of the horse siting tall and straight. The horse was relaxed and growing tired from how comfortable the Vulcan was sitting. Spock knew where to turn. Familiar with the landscape that the fenced in area was. Kirk looked at his young mother with fondness. 

“Allergic to them this time?” Kirk asked. 

Winona was baffled. 

“Never have been allergic,” Winona said. 

“Just wanted to make sure,” Kirk said. 

“Why?” Winona asked. 

“Spock has a working theory that I shouldn’t share unless there is more evidence,” Kirk said. “That is all I can say.”

Winona remembered the strange expression on Spock’s face seeing the blue eyed baby. Intrigue. Spock did not need to say ‘fascinating’ as it was written all over his well aged face. A phrase he had not said at all holding the newborn. His brown eyes full of awe. The hint of a small smile appearing on his face holding the little one in his arms (with gloves, no less, where he got them they had no clue)  muttering _“Oochy-woochy-koochy-coo._ ” letting the newborn clutch onto the covered finger.

“Such as eye color?” Winona raised her eyebrows. 

“I am afraid so,” Kirk said, with a nod. “You are no different. Look just the way you did when I was this tall.” Kirk held his hand above the table alongside the edge. He lowered his hand onto the table. “I am surprised, though, that dad is going to be given a promotion so soon to captain because of this mission.”

“How long did that take in the original timeline?” Winona said. 

“I was five years old when we left Riverside,” Kirk said.

“Ah,”  Winona said. “It feels strange that you’re not going to grow up in Riverside. Doesn’t it.”

“It does,” Kirk said. “We’re not going to be always living here in his childhood,”  his face grew grim. “Don’t worry about us,” the admiral smiled back at the woman. “by the time you come back we will be having fun on Starbase one. Close to home and in space, simultaneously.”

“And this fun is a good thing,” Winona said. 

“It is, mom,” Kirk said.

“Excellent,” Winona said. “Because your husband,” she glanced over the resting Vulcan then back toward the elder human. “his compass is off the charts when it comes to his well being.” 

Kirk glanced off toward his bondmate while cupping the side of his face with a admiring, fond, and loving look on his face. Spock had yet to start snoring, gently. It meant that he was wide awake. Visualizing what was occurring in the novel. Spock had opted to close his eyes to not freak out the children should they lose attention on the screen. It was a aesthetic that Winona, Kirk, and  Spock agreed on unanimously. The admiral lowered his hand from the side of his cheek glancing over toward the blonde. 

“That is Spock for you doing what his logic dictates is best,” Kirk said. “Starbases have weird things happening on them every day,” the admiral stood up. “Would you like to go out back and go horse back riding? I have the wildest stories to tell you about our time travels.” 

“But Jim, that’s against the temporal prime directive,” Winona said. 

“No, that doesn’t go against the temporal prime directive,” Kirk said. “It relates to the past not the future.”

Winona stood up. 

“Let’s do that,” Winona said. 

Winona and Kirk left the room leaving the two children in much capable trusting hands. 


	31. Chapter 31

Humans had small children that grew and adapted to their surroundings. Some babies developed faster or slower than most meaning they either had a great advantage or disadvantage over them in their brain. Spock reached the end of chapter five to wuh sashidau Rihansu heh wuh dunap t’ surak. _The deformed Romulan and the book of Surak_. He pressed pause on the small machine with text outlined in Vulcan that read stop. Spock noticed there were two figures pressed against both of his sides. One of the figures were larger than the other and the smaller one was tucked along his arm. Spock carefully took out his ear buds from both ears then rounded them up into a ball placing them on the counter.

Sam was pressed against the elder’s left and Jim was pressed against Spock’s right side.

“TV,” Spock began. “Turn off.”

The distinct sound of Netflix staying on was evident.  The sound was a familiar thematic hum. The hum had been a enjoyable aspect to it since it was so friendly to the ears and welcoming at the same time. It was a lot like the sound heard on

“Computer,“ Spock said. “Turn off the TV.”

It didn’t turn off.

“Oh hell,” Spock remarked. He rubbed his forehead. “I forgot about the remote.”

Spock turned his attention over to the counter. Which he couldn’t see. Spock felt around onto the counter feeling the machine with the disk placed into it. The ear buds. The sweet tea that Kirk had made for Spock. A hard back novel. He felt around for the remote. He felt nothing except for a lamp that was set on the table. The remote was across from him on the coffee table. Spock sighed, defeatedly. How was he going to get around this? Spock knew how far the table was to the recliner. His arms were not that long. If he tried to reach it by leaning forward with the children then they would wake up and  _plausibly_ start crying which he did not wish for them. He did not need two crying children ringing his ears. Perhaps he could use the long ear buds. Spock fashioned the ear plugs into a lasso. He swung it after the remote then flung it back landing it into his hands. Spock pressed the upper top button then the music ceased. Spock relaxed placing the remote onto the counter then unraveled the ear plugs off the remote. The chair gently rocked back and forth with the Vulcan.

It then occurred to Spock. The edges of his expression began to go up. “ _Got_ _your arms full, huh, Mr Spock?_ ” the doctor’s teasingly southern voice echoed in his mind. Spock imagined the familiar soft, warmth expression on McCoy’s face with his hands linked behind his back and bouncing on the balls of his toes leaned forward looking over the recliner. Spock smiled to himself, widely, having a laugh. He lowered his hands to the lower half of the children cupping them against his forearms.

“Yes, doctor,” Spock said. “I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ONLY 30+ MORE CHAPTERS TO GO. 
> 
> I promise, OLD MARRIED SPIRK FLUFF! 
> 
> It is there every chapter. I swear. Not lying.


	32. Chapter 32

Being made captain so quickly was _unexpected_.

He expected that  to take the better part of two decades. He had just finished the first decade of his career in star fleet. His academy days behind him with the past in the past regarding Engineer Cadet Winona Miller and Linguistics Cadet Amanda Grayson. He smiled, looking back at how far they had came. He was driving up to the direction of the old Kirk farm house. It had been a day since his departure and the his return. Winona was going to love the next assignment. A science based assignment planet side on Alpha Centauri. It was a unusual science assignment to study several creatures dug out of depths of space hidden inside a sealed cargo container. He parked the car in front of the closed then  opened the door. The door flew up. George unbuckled his seat belt then made his way to the front door taking out his keys.

_Meow._

George looked over, perplexed, hearing the alien like sound.

There was no cats in sight, so he shrugged, then put the key in and turned the knob.

The door flew open.

_Oh._

“Winnie, where did all the cats come from?” George called. George began to unzip his science blue jacket  looking around curiously seeing cats of various breeds littering the scenery. Sam was surrounded  by cats patting his hand on a padd. Winona appeared from the next room holding what seemed to be kittens with a apologetic look on her face.

“I honestly have no clue,” Winona said. “I think Spock somehow lured them here.”

“You’re not implying that he is a cat magnet,” George said, in disbelief.

“Well, they are using the opportunity to find a seeing eye cat,” Winona said.

“Seeing eye cat?” George said. “I can hardly imagine a cat helping a human. Except for a dog or a cat. Cats are not always friendly and abiding to humans,” he put his jacket onto the chair looking over the couch. There was loud purring from over the couch.  He looked over to see several cats seated alongside Jim curled in a ball.

“These are the rejects,“ Winona said.

“And where are our favorite old men?” George asked.

“On the back porch,” Winona said. “the best part of this is are the kittens.”

“We have to check for microchips,” George said.

“I know,” Winona said. “everyone has to leave sometime. Kirk cooked breakfast this morning. Intercontinental.  We’re going to raise a sweetheart,” she approached the man as the kittens mewed. “A sweetheart, can you believe that?”

“I can,”  George said, rubbing under the cats chin. He looked up toward Winona with a smile. “We raised him.”


	33. Chapter 33

The sound of cats mewing on the Kirk family lot was loud and unanimous.

Spock and Kirk were sitting on two lawn chairs in front of the large, green backyard on a well kept patio. They were siting side so close that their arms and shoulders met each other. Kirk was in a colorful buttoned up shirt while the Ambassador was in insulted sweaters that seemed to fit his figure. The patio’s roof acted as a shed above the two old men surrounded by cats of various breeds left in two distinct groups. Spock handed a black and white cat to Kirk.

“Ah ha,” Kirk said, holding up a ragdoll like cat. “This is the cat, I know it!”

“That is in the reject, Jim,” Spock said. “That cat has lower intestinal problems and has a average lifespan of four years,” the elder picked up a large black cat that was seemingly a main coon variation. The cat meowed. “Average house cat lives to the age of twenty five. We are keeping one cat that has a shortened life span for you to pamper and does not have known problems.”

“I am lucky to have a husband like you,” Kirk said, placing a hand on to his chest as though he had been flattered. “Looks as though this one likes you.” 

The dark cat licked along the Vulcan’s face.

“This cat is acceptable,” Spock said, lowering the purring cat to his lap. The Vulcan felt an unusual series of ridges on the cats forehead. “social, patient, and cooperative.”

“I thought all cats were that way,” Kirk said. 

“The cats that had been rejected were unacceptable to leading a blind Vulcan,” Spock said. “it is time to gather all the cats.”

“I will do that,” Kirk said, placing a hand on to the Vulcan’s shoulder. “Leave that to me.”

“As you wish,” Spock said. 

Kirk stood up then began to pile the cats one after another into his arms. The cats mewed moving around onto his shoulder perching themselves into place. Their claws digging into the shirts fabric. The cats mewed moving around the older man. Kirk gently used his side to slide the door open. Kirk hummed to himself with his arms full of large furballs. The door to the inside of the  house closed behind the captain. George was sitting on the couch with Winona  with Sam and Jim in their laps. Kirk walked backwards to see the sighting then smiled at it. He whistled guiding the cats after him. It was a like a colony of them following after the admiral. He opened the door to the car. All the cats jumped and went into the back.  Until there was a lone orange cat on the porch. 

He checked on the navigational directions to the nearby cat park in Riverside  to drop off all the cats. He looked over his shoulder to see the cats bringing in kittens into the backseat. The cats had organized themselves in  perfect order and harmony. Kirk activated the driving setting. Kirk froze, as suddenly the ambassador’s words echoed in his mind.  “ _Captain… you are an excellent starship commander. But as a taxi driver, you leave much to be desired._ ” A fond memory from a planet neck deep into the era with slang and Brooklyn stacked houses set side by side. Cigarettes, tommy guns, and colorful suits. Kirk laughed at himself then tapped on the buttons to organize the drive. The car hovered above the ground then drove away. 

* * *

Winona was awakened by the lack of noisy meows. She saw a lone orange cat laid on the seat across from them.  George was loudly snoring away. Sam was in her lap. Winona smelled a dirty diaper from Jim. Winona carefully slid the little boy alongside George then took Jim out of the man’s hand. Winona menurved Sam into George’s lap. She picked up the blue eyed baby beginning to open their eyes. She saw their blue curious eyes.  His chubby face looking on toward the woman’s eyes. Full of curiosity until Jim twisted their face and wailed. Winona speeded up stairs to Jim’s room being followed by the orange meowing cat. George awoke briefly then fell back asleep. Sam slid out of his father’s lap then waddled his way down the hall. The door to the backyard was slightly ajar. Sam slid out of the doorway then came to the patio tat ended at the line where the grass reached. 

“Why is there cats?” Sam asked. 

“Because we like cats,” Spock replied. 

“Why?” Sm asked. 

“They are likeable companions,” Spock said, as Sam walked around the elder. Spock reasoned the age of the child based off the voice. “My,” Spock grew a small smile. “you have grown, Mr Kirk.”

“Why do cats go through walls?” Sam asked, sitting down into the chair alongside the elders. 

“That is a question that cannot be answered,”Spock said. “I can say they go through windows.” 

“How?” Sam asked. 

“In through the window,” Spock said. “Open window.”

“Oh,” Sam said, as Spock stroked the cat. “Mommy said you are family.”

“I have been and will be,” Spock said. 

“Sealik?” Sam said.

“Selek,” Spock said. 

“You have a funny name, Mr Sealik,” Sam said. 

Spock turned his head toward the young child. 

“It is,”

“Why?”

“Just because.”

“Why is it made to be that way?”

“To stand out as someone else.”

“Why?”

“To stand apart.”

“Oh.”

“Indeed,”

“Where do babies come from?”

“I cannot answer that.”

“Why?”

There was a short moment of silence between the two. Spock gently stroked the cat with his fingers. His long, aged fingers stroked the cats back with a gentle stroke each time. The cat was purring softly in the vulcan’s lap. Spock was constructing his reply. At the age of four, a human being would have some grasp of logic. Vulcan children would already be like miniature adults able to say the word ‘logical’ in a suitable situation that required the phrase. A stoic mask on their face hiding their emotions. Spock sighed, coming to a perhaps logical conclusion. He turned his head in the direction of Sam. 

“Because I am not your father,” Spock said. “It is not logical to take the conversation away,” he painfully closed his eyes as a memory crossed his mind. turning his head away.  “I have taken the fact of not knowing the future.”

“Oh,” Sam said. “Where did Uncle Jameson come from?”

“Alpha Centauri,” Spock lied. 

“Why?” Sam raised an eyebrow. 

“Because it is a nice place to hide out from relatives,” Spock said. 

“I see,” Sam said.  Sam went quiet. Sam observed Spock’s eyes aimed at the sky rather than on the cat. Sam looked up in the direction that  Spock was looking in. It was the sun rather than a cloud. Spock did not seem to be bothered by gazing at it. He turned his attention onto the elder. “You’re blind.”

“Yes,” Spock said.

“Why?” Sam asked. 

“Because I was in the dark too long,” Spock said. “Given what Doctor Talron told me, I spent two weeks in pitch black. I damaged my eyes during the process of re-adjusting them.”

“Two weeks…” Sam repeated. 

“Two weeks,” Spock replied. 

“Can you see light?” Sam asked.  Spock turned his head in the direction of Sam giving concerned expression. “Curious,” Spock raised his right eyebrow. “Being blind is a mystery that needs answers.” 

Spock gave an amused glance with a small nod in agreement. 

“I see nothing,” Spock said. “I see nothing at all.”

The memory of pain in his eyes upon awaking was firmly imprinted in his mind. Pain that he will never forget. The unexpected bright lighting in the cell. Spock remembered the brightness clearly. The light piercing through his eyelids. It felt like his eyes were on fire, stinging, as though a dozen of thin gray needles had pierced through them. The strong intensity of the light. Spock had sensed the commander of the vessel standing across from him. Spock refused to scream kneeling over to his side with one hand on the wall with his other hand on his face trying to shield them. It had caught his secondary eye lid off guard. Spock had seen enough of the light to have severe eye damage. A minute worth of damage, _permanent_ damage. Sam was silent looking over in the direction of the elder feeling bad for him. Sam and Spock were silent sitting together in the lawn chairs. 

“What are you going to name the cat?”  Sam asked. 

“I was thinking of …” Spock paused. “Italian.”

“Good choice,” Sam said. 

“I agree,” Spock said. “Time will only tell for my husband’s choice on the name of his cat. That I shall approve of unconditionally.”


	34. Chapter 34

There are some facts in life that _spellbinded_ Vulcans. 

Some of which were the logic in the universe. Logic that made them pause and process it for more than five minutes doing mental gymnastics. If they stood there for more than an hour still processing it, it  normally meant they were processing a unanswerable question and had to be called out of it. Most Vulcans went to research it after being approached with the unanswerable question to give it an answer. Of all the Vulcans to be approached with rapid fire questions, Spock was not hesitating. All the while sitting on a towel on a beach alongside Kirk who was reading a novel under the shade of a umbrella using a pair of antique glasses. There were caws of birds overheard on the beach around the beach visitors. Sam was making a sand castle with a bucket. His plastic, colorful tools set by his side. Sam turned his attention over toward Spock who had been given sunglasses for aesthetic reasons. He was looking in the direction of Kirk. 

“Why does a whale sing?” Sam asked.

“To share its history.” Spock said. Italian was seated between the two purring contently. 

“Why?” Sam asked. 

“To tell a story.” Spock said. 

“Why?” Sam asked.

“Because everyone gets bored eventually,” Spock said.  “Even used at times when they are required to mate.”

“Do you know what a pod is?” Sam asked. 

“A pod is a series of whales,” Spock said. 

“I saw a pod of whales on the documentary channel,” Sam said. 

“Whales are extraordinary,” Spock said. 

“They are, Mr Sealik,” Sam said.  He put the bucket upside down then placed his hands on the top of the bucket. He saw Winona laughing as George turned the raft in a circle with a shark fin attached to his back. Jim was crying inside the raft. “Why are my parents so far away?”

“Family bonding time is required for a young child,” Spock replied, factly. He turned his attention in the direction of Sam. He lowered his glasses raising an eyebrow, curiously, at the young man. Kirk’s eyes had closed. “I take it that you have not often go out swimming.”

“We don’t often go to the beach,” Sam said.

“Not enough babysitters,” Spock said. 

“Yes,” Sam said. 

“One moment,” Spock said, then he placed a hand onto Italian’s back then felt around. His hands gently touched the fur traveling down toward the sand. The elder Vulcan slid out a slightly wide red item. He then placed it into the center of the novel and closed it on the admiral into his lap. Spock turned in the direction of the young Kirk. “Samuel… You are…  will be living in space. It won’t be easy being a Kirk out there.”

“It will be under dad’s roof,” Sam said. From the right corner of Spock’s mouth grew a smile. 

“I believe you’re right,” Spock said. 

“Why do you say it won’t be easy in space?” Sam asked. 

“Because I have no idea how the future will be for you in space,” Spock said. “Now that it is changed… Anything can happen.”

“Like space mermaids?” Sam asked. 

“No,” Spock  said.  

“Space fish?” Sam asked

“Yes,” Spock said, sliding his sunglasses up. “Space is a lot like the ocean,” he turned his  head toward the sea. “mysterious, enticing, and never ending… The most unexpected tend to happen there.” the last part came out as nostalgic. Kirk was partially covered by a towel. Kirk’s toes were coated in sand. In front of the towel was a series of feet imprints.  Spock’s hands were placed on his lap laid together. 

“So do people like you sail through them?” Sam asked. “Like sailors?”

“Yes,” Spock confirmed. 

“Why is it that way?” Sam asked. “Why are there fish in space? Whales in space? Squids in space?”

Spock paused, contemplating, looking down toward his lap. Spock played  with his fingers while deep into thought. Sam returned to playing with his bucket. Spock was unable to reply. Spock’s eyebrows furrowed together. Sam slid his fingers alongside the sand castle wall giving it a design. Sam hummed to himself chipping away the top giving it a distinctive rail like design. Kirk’s eyes slowly opened with a groan. Kirk tiredly placed a hand onto the elder’s shoulder with his eyes fluttering. 

“Husband,” Kirk said, with a yawn. “You are thinking too loud.”

Spock held his two fingers out. 

“My apologies,” Spock said, as Kirk returned the gesture. 

“If anything, Sammy,” Kirk said. “space allows it.”

“Reasons that will remain unknown,” Spock turned his head in the direction of Sam. “I remember when I was your fathers age performing a study regarding a Gormagander. A fascinating specimen thriving in space,” Spock took off his sunglasses then switched it with the admiral  taking the antique glasses. Spock closed the glasses. 

Kirk laughed.


	35. Chapter 35

Sam discovered his new found relatives were endearing. 

Strange, even. Jameson Kirk, or how his dad referred to him “Mr Miller”, seemed to enjoy stargazing with his blind bondmate by his side on the back yard grass. There were questions that Spock could answer in which ones his father cannot answer at all. Including his mother. Kirk wore gloves when it came to handling Jim. The old Vulcan felt like his name was not entirely ‘Selek’. Sam suspected that the name his mother once called him ‘Spock’ was his name. And they had a strange taste in naming cats of all things. Sam made his way in the direction of the grandparents. 

“–recent is this schematic?” Spock inquired. 

“Robau said it was from a old model that they brought in,” Kirk said. 

Spock rubbed his chin. 

“This cannot be as easy as it says,” Spock said, then pointed at the floating blue image above the table. 

“Nothing is easy,” Kirk concurred. “This isn’t a model that is used often by Orion Traders.”

“It was not often reported in the star fleet databanks,” Spock replied. 

Sam saw the interior image of a starship floating above the table.  It was enlarged to show corridors, decks, and some curled stairs. Kirk placed a hand onto the Vulcan’s back then rubbed his fingers in a circle gently. They didn’t speak as the elderly Vulcan closed his eyes. Italian was laid in the Vulcan’s lab. Sam hid behind the corner of a wall.  Spock turned his head in the direction of the human, frustrated. 

“I think we should go the other route,” Kirk said.

“That route?” Spock inquired. 

“No backstabbing, no ambush, nothing that can put our lives into jeapordy,” Kirk said. “It is not the most ideal.”

“It is risky,” Spock said 

“Yes,” Kirk said. 

“Your father cannot be part of it,” Spock said.

“He won’t,” Kirk said. “I am thinking of putting Commodore Orego in there.” 

Spock grew alarmed.

“Jim,” Spock said. “About Orego …You know what happens to him. Right?”

“I remember what happened,” Kirk said, knowingly. “It was all over the news.”

“You sure about him?” Spock asked. “He is not the most ideal.”

Kirk smiled, cupping his hands together. 

“That’s what makes him ideal,” Kirk said. “he will never answer Star Fleet officers in the consequences and be suspicious of them.” 

Spock paused. 

“Logical,” Spock said.

“We ought to have him repay that favor for Archer,” Kirk said. He held his two fingers out for the Vulcan. “There is no one else I want.”

Spock returned the gesture with a nod. 

“As you wish,” Spock replied. 

Kirk tapped on the holo-emitter that then turned off. 

* * *

“Mom, mom, mom, mom, mom,” Sam tugged at Winona’s pant leg as she was taking care of Jim’s diaper.  “Miller and Sealik are planning something.”

Winona looked over with a smile. 

“Oh good,” Winona said. “The house has been needing an upgrade.”

“Not the house,” Sam said. 

“Sure it is,” Winona said. She handed him a box of diapers. 

“Urh–” Sam struggled with the light box. “Heavy.”

“You carried that to me yesterday, Superman,” Winona said. “Hasn’t gotten any heavier,” Sam pouted. “Tell George that the next time he puts his hand on Jim, it’s his turn to change the diaper,” she patted on the child’s broad shoulders. “Go take the diaper to daddy now.”

“Sure, mom,” Sam said, then obediently wandered after his father. 

Sam strolled down the hall. Sam was unable to look where he was going. He came to a stop when he saw the visible outline  of his father in the threshold of a doorway to Sam’s bedroom. He was observing the room like someone was looking back. Sam bumped into his father’s leg then fell back landing on the floor covered with unused diapers. George came down to his son’s level. He picked up the packages knelt down to the child’s level. Sam noticed that George was relaxed. Not at all nervous unlike Sam, himself.  George stopped what he was doing. 

“Nervous about the move?” George asked. 

“Yes, dad,” Sam nodded.  George smiled back in return.

“Well, so am I,” George said. “A part of me is scared. Never been to Alpha Centauri in my Star Fleet career,” he added the last box. “I will put this into the Poppin’s bag where it belongs.” 

George stood up then came over to the colorful bag. He tilted the box side ways where he dropped the bag. The bag fell in. George peered over.  Sam  came to his side. There was a gentle thud.  Sam looked over the table attempting to look over the table. George went over to the crib then pressed a button. It became a small box. He tossed the box over his shoulder where it flew into the colorful bag. 

“Where did you get the bag from?” Sam asked.

“Your previous nanny. Don’t worry. She has plenty of them,” George said. “here, start packing.”

“Why does she have a TARDIS in the bag?” Sam asked. 

“She had lots of make up and furniture in there,” George said. “It’s okay to be nervous,” Sam retrieved a series of baby bottles from the counter. He handed the bottles to George.  “Everyone is on their big move.”

“Was Sealik and Miller nervous?” Sam asked. 

“I like to think so,” George said. He put the baby bottles into the bag. He smiled to himself. “I was when I moved into the academy… A big monumontus event in my life. Sarek made it easier to take my mind off that. Ambassador’s kid, hah, who would have thought?”  

“Ambassador Sarek?” Sam asked. “The no fun Vulcan guy?”

“Uh huh, and his wife, well, my friend,” George said.  “Don’t name call him. Not in this house. Not from a Kirk.”

“Sorry, Dad,” Sam said 

“It is funny to think that his visit to the academy is where he grew a liking to her… “ Sam handed  George several of the baby’s clothes. George absentmindedly took Sam’s  spider-man action figure placing it into the bag while lost in the past. “And then the visit after that. . and the visit after that.  . . and all the visits after that.” the older man had a good laugh to himself. “Personally? I am glad  I was able to witness Sarek attempting to court Winona, terribly, the human way. Didn’t last long. He switched to the Vulcan way. She had no idea what hit her.”

“You mean mom,” Sam said. 

“No, actually, Winona,” George said. “Treated her with respect. Winona ended the relationship to be with me and he ended up dating her friend Amanda,” he fondly recalled. “She was in linguistics back then. Ended up marrying her _both_ ways.”

“Are you saying you knew Amanda _Grayson_?” Sam asked. 

“Yes, sir,” George said. 

“Who teaches at the Vulcan Learning Center as a teacher?” Sam asked. 

“Yes,” George said, dropping the ‘sir’. He took a lamp from Sam’s hand. He stopped looking down toward it then looked over toward the toddler with a bemused expression. “We’re not taking the lamp,” he handed it back to Sam. “The computer will deal with the lighting.”

Sam put the lamp back.


	36. Chapter 36

“Miller, sure that you are going to have a visitor in here?” George asked.

“I’m sure,” Kirk said. “He will be on his feet and up by the time Jim is seven or ten.”

George looked over toward the elder Kirk.

“You are really prepared for him,” George said.

“Being a admiral means you have to be ready for the most inconceivable scenario,” Kirk said,  observing the room. “Nursery will make a great recovery room,” the admiral turned in the direction of the captain. George was concerned. “Don’t worry,” he placed a hand on his father’s shoulder. “when Hanukkah comes around .  . . This kid is going to have some semblance of trust with us.”

“I am assured,” George said. “I am just concerned how you will handle his PTSD.”

“I know what it is like,”  Kirk said. “It is something I do not wish my archenemy to face.”

A knowing smile came on the elder Kirk’s face. Kirk  let go of the younger man’s shoulder glancing off toward the bedroom visualizing how to make it friendly. Eye friendly pink masculine walls, brown desk,  blue seat, light blue rug, a bookshelf, pictures of fluffy animals strewn about the room, and on the desk being a picture of a horse. It was a rough idea of what to chose for the young man’s bedroom. He didn’t know what the environment that Lyionel would be living in. He began to think realistically. A dark room with a mood lamp, blinds, dark cool colors–he looked up to see the lack of a hole in the wall. Ceiling fan. And perhaps a fidget spinner. All of which were calming to look at. Kirk knew that Khan will never get to suffer anything like this. That was the way it should be for everyone including for Scott. The broken up engineer weeping over the loss of his relative in sick bay. He remembered the attack vividly. Lost so many cadets then briefly his bondmate. Kirk sighed.

“I suppose you don’t want to give the house upgrade,” George said.

“We decided that long ago,” Kirk said. “We will design the room after we know what Orion Vessel Lyionel was enslaved to.”

“Good idea,” George said. 

“If you take in a traumatized kid, don’t base everything what I am doing,” Kirk said.

“I will consider that,” George said.

Kirk had a soft, sad look at George.

“It will require all the consideration you have,” Kirk said. Knowing. It pained him.

“Something the matter?” George asked.  The saddened look faded.

“Nothing,” Kirk said, shaking his head. “Absolutely nothing.”

Kirk walked away from George.


	37. Chapter 37

“Sure you’re going to give updates about Lyionel?” Winona asked. 

“As soon as we get him,” Kirk said.  

“Indeed,” Spock agreed, packing the shuttle craft  compartment with a box labeled as ‘books’. He looked over toward the two. “We shall fill the household with recent hardback books.”

“Ones that I can read,” Kirk said. 

Kirk held his two fingers out and Spock returned the gesture.

“Lyionel will be  pleased to find that I have acquired some Vulcan audio books,” Spock said,  returning to the pile of belongings.  

Spock picked up the light weight colorful large bag from the pile then carried it into the shuttle.  Spock opened it then felt around raising an eyebrow tilting his head, baffled, by the largely packed interior. He took his hand out then felt underneath the bag. George put in another box marked ‘Parents clothes’. Kirk smiled, all heartedly into agreement. Sam and Jim sat side by side. The packing was done  a little within the hour. Winona helped in the unpacking. The shuttle craft was a rental, easy to send back thanks in part to a hired pilot. The pilot, a betazoid, was whistling while giving the LCAR’S system giving it a recommended five minute update. Eventually, there was nothing left alongside the shuttle. George held his hand out for  the elder Kirk with a smile. Kirk took off his glove then gave the captain a firm  hand shake. 

“Good luck with your new assignment,” Kirk said 

“No, the luck goes to you with your assignment,”  George said. Kirk let go of the man’s hand. 

“You need even more luck than I do,”  Kirk said. “It might not be a friendly assignment.”

“Science never hurt a soul,” George said.

Spock came to his bondmate’s side with a puzzled look. _Did he just say what I thought I heard?_

 _No, no, no,_ Kirk smiled with eyes on his bondmate while shaking his head then his eyesight landed on his father. Kirk’s hand linked behind his back. Kirk had a amused expression on his face.

“Make sure Sam doesn’t tag along with you,”  Kirk said. “who knows what Sam can get into.”

“He won’t follow me to work,”  George said, with a laugh. 

“Alpha Centauri has a holiday where you have to bring children to work,” Kirk said. 

“Oh,” George said. “perhaps they’ll have a playroom at the facility I work at.”

Winona joined George’s side. 

“Mr Howard is ready to lift off,” Winona said, then she turned her attention onto the two men. “You two better not get lost while we’re away. Because if you do–”

“You shall come after us and lecture us about going on a away mission at the age we are,” Spock said. “Mrs Kirk, your concerns are warranted but we do not have any plans to go on missions any time soon.”

“Technically, we did have our last away mission preventin–” Kirk said. 

“That was not a away mission, I drafted you into it,” Spock said. “You were still angry at them for the loss.”

“It was a away mission,”  Kirk said. 

“It does not count,” Spock said. “You were not willing.”

“Will this one count?”  Kirk asked. “The next one we do?”

“It is not for Star Fleet,” Spock said. “It is for our own benefit.”

“What if I make it a Star Fleet mission?” Kirk asked.

“No,” Spock said. “Our last away mission was ensuring a blind child was reunited with her parents after being taken by cowardly Klingons. We were enrolled into the mission together and the crew were part of it. Doctor McCoy was a calming influence on the child. You and I had to make sure she felt safe and comfortable in the time she was with us.”

“Is that how you prefer to remember my last command’s final away mission?” Kirk said, raising an eyebrow.

“As a family,” Spock said, holding his two fingers out. Kirk returned the gesture. “Technically, the mission I roped you in was a favor.”

Kirk laughed, amused, by his bondmate’s terminology.  

“Seems your time traveling stories are just as wild as you are,” Winona said, as they turned their attention back toward the two.

“That’s just a taste of what to expect,” Kirk replied. 

“We are legends,” Spock said. “maybe myths someday.”

“Fitting for the two of you,” Winona said. “your next mission overall?”

“Family,” Spock said.

“And making ourselves home,” Kirk agreed. 

“Mr Kirk, Mrs Kirk!” came the call from the shuttle. 

“Mom, don’t forget to take care of yourself with those kids,” Kirk said. “And don’t let yourself be dragged insane by the engineering marvels at Alpha  Centauri.”

“Ooh oh oho, I told you they had  engineering marvels,” Winona said, turned toward George. “Guess who is going to be all over the city looking for a engineering department to apply in?”

“You,” George said. 

“The best of the best engineering minds,” Winona turned away heading into the shuttle craft. “Ashley Dimsdale is there! Mommy is going to meet up with her role model!”

George looked off admiring toward his wife then in the direction of the two men. 

“Your mother and I going to have a two month vacation starting in June,” George said. “I have been planning this for months. Just the two of us on Risa. . and perhaps, if it’s any consolation, go to Bajor for camping. And—”

“You would like us to baby sit the children,” Spock said. 

“Yes,” George said. 

“We will strongly consider it,” Kirk said. 

George smiled

“You’re a lifesaver,” George said, then he walked into the shuttle craft. 

The shuttle craft doors closed behind the two. Spock and Kirk went to the shielding part of the lift off section. The  light blue sizzling forcefield doors closed. The couple watched the ship vanish into the limits of space. Kirk had a look of concern briefly on his face. 

“When’s the meeting with the Commodore?” Kirk asked. 

“Next week at 0900 on Friday,” Spock replied. “His schedule is busy for this week.”

“Good,” Kirk said.

They turned their direction from the sky then walked away.


	38. Chapter 38

“Commodore Culber,“ Orego greeted the shorter man with a smile. Charles sat down into a chair in front of the light blue table. They were on a patio at a restaurant overlooking the city of San Fransisco.  Charles was in Commodore uniform that was a shade of blue almost looking identical to the Cardassian except for the design of the neck collar that varied between them. “What brings you here?”

“I heard you’re going to have a meeting with Admiral Miller,“ Charles said. 

“No? Sorry?” Orego said. “That is Admiral Kirk.”

“There are no Admiral Kirk’s in Star Fleet, unofficially,” Charles said.

“Now really,” Orego said. 

“Really,”  Charles said. “there _is_ a retired but displaced Ambassador out of the diplomatic corps who insists we call him Selek in public,” Orego grew a concerned look toward the human tilting his head. “Absolutely insists.” 

“Culber, why did you bother visiting me?” Orego asked. The Cardassian cut into the edible food slowly yet intently his attention was squared on the Commodore.

Charles leaned back rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Because that Ambassador is Sarek’s kid and he lives with Miller,” Charles said. “Whatever they ask of you, I recommend you take it seriously. Even as mad as it sounds.”

“Taking in a Cardassian defector is mad,” Orego said, as his concern faded. He took a bite of the dining food. “Must I remind you that you were reluctant to believe that I was a defector?”

“Because you popped up in my ship during an ion storm and held engineering as hostage,” Charles said. “That is different.” Charles took a sip of the glass.

“Uh huh,” Orego said. “You are worried about me.”

“No, I am not,” Charles denied, lowering the cup. 

“’Yes, you are,” Orego said. “For someone who knows my capabilities far better than the admirals you should be able to admit that.”

“I am not ready to admit it,” Charles said, with a hand wave. “I just have a feeling it will be more risky than your situation.”

“You once told me that risk is part of a star fleet officer,” Orego said.  “That saying goes for the Cardassian and the Obsidian Order. Or were you lying about Star Fleet being a risky agency?”

“Not at all,” Charles said, with a shake of his head. “I just felt you should know about these two. Selek and Miller,” he had his hands cupped under his chin put together. “I am just scared these two unknown figures are going to lead you into a very dark part of Star Fleet.”

“Not everything is bright and cheery as you remember,” Orego said. “Your memories of serving on a starship don’t apply now. Even though the models are old and constantly need updates…” 

“Star Fleet is constantly updating,” Charles said. 

“I can tell,” Orego said. “Every five years there’s a new uniform being sent out for long term assignments,” he gestured at the blue uniform. “Unfortunately, I have grown to like these.”

“There some of us who like old fashioned starships,” Charles said, with a slight laugh. 

Orego took another bite then swallowed what he chewed.

“How is your son?” Orego asked. 

“Hugh got a boyfriend,” Charles said, with a smile. 

“Congratulations!” Orego said. “Been decades since I have seen him.”

“It’s been fifteen years,” Charles said. “Not that long.”

“Feels like it,” Orego said. “Once you had black hair… now you’ve gone gray.”

“And you haven’t?” Charles asked, raising his grayed eyebrows. 

“Don’t insult me,” Orego said. 

“Shannon wants you to be over for Thanksgiving,” Charles said. 

Orego spat out what he was drinking. 

“Me?” Orego asked. “Why?”

“Because it comes to that,” Charles replied. 

“You have never asked me to come over for Thanksgiving in the time that we have been acquaintances,” Orego said. “This is a special occasion for your family. From what I have done in the past and learned about human definition of family… family don’t do that to family.”

“There are certain things that have made me evaluate life recently,” Charles said. Charles looked over toward the whales going under the golden gate bridge. Orego looked over seeing the pod traveling through. Charles wore a smile. 

“The whales,” Orego said, his eyes changing toward the human’s direction. 

Charles turned in the direction of the Cardassian then shared a nod.

“You’re the reason why I met my wife,” Charles said. 

“What? Cuba was the perfect place to spend a vacation,” Orego said. “You were stiff as a corpse.”

“And you a science consultant,” Charles said. “Rankless yet you were calling yourself a ensign, and my god, remember the time the ship was bathed in sapient jello?”

Orego smiled back, fondly.

“I remember it clearly,” Orego said. “Your wife-to-be was there as head nurse.” 

Charles cupped the side of his face looking off with a smile that was brief then returned his attention onto the Cardassian Commodore.

“You will be there for thanksgiving?” Charles asked. 

“No matter how risky this mission might be, I never turn down a request,” Orego said. He took  a sip from his glass then lowered it. The Cardassian sighed with a tremble. “So, has she… ?“

“You have to ask her about that yourself if she found it in her heart to forgive you,”  Charles said. “You can only find out by visiting our home. I will put the directions into the comn terminal.”

“After we eat,” Orego said, then moved a occupied plate toward him. “Might as well talk and take our time.”

“Ah damn,” Charles said. “What did I get myself into?”

“The adventure of a lifetime of course,” Orego said, sarcastically. “Tell me, is your son still in medicine?” Orego took a bite off his plate using the fork looking at the dark commodore, curiously. And then Charles began to talk about his son, proudly.


	39. Chapter 39

Orego had pressed to his side against the window. Rain was beating against the window lightly. Alongside him was a curled tail and a closed umbrella. The steady sounds of the water landing on the window was consistent. The taxi came to a stop in front of the house. Orego unbuckled the seat belt then handed in the federation credits to the driver. He got out of the vehicle and slid his long thick tail out of the doors way taking along the umbrella. He slowly opened the umbrella then straightened out his uniform with his free hand until it was all the way down. It felt so significant to him that it be straightened. Decades ago it didn’t matter how he looked in uniform. A fitting change in how he viewed Star Fleet in a whole.

He looked over to see a couple of horses grazing the field. He had arrived to this destination as required. Vice Admiral Robau had given him the directions after  informing him that Admiral Miller did not _normally_ work at Star Fleet HQ.  They were still feeling their way around that issue. Orego had been informed by Admiral Phlox that the admiral that he was speaking to was going to be Admiral Kirk. It was confusing at firs but started to make sense by the comment Charles had made. His memory wasn’t faltering him. That was for sure. Gift with such a crystal clear memory like the Vulcans. He saw at the window sat a orange fat cat staring right back at him. He used to be unnerved by felines staring at him. Now, he is not any loner bothered by it. He came to the door then rapidly knocked on it. A distinctive older man’s voice replied, “Coming!” When he turned his head toward the window to the left, there was the cat again staring at him. He looked over in the direction of the other window where the  cat was still there. He slowly turned his head away to see the very same cat leap onto the ledge to the window and stare back at him intently. The door opened before him.  

“Hello, Commodore,” Kirk opened the door wide. “Come in, please.”

Kirk gestured in as he stepped to the side. 

“Admiral Kirk,” Orego said, entering the house. He took off his hat holding it by the rims between his hands. “Your house is nicely decorated.”

“Everyone calls me Jim,” Kirk said, closing the door behind him. “Except around family, it’s Miller.”

Orego nodded in understanding. 

“I believe I understand,” Orego said. “Jim.”

Kirk beamed. 

“Good,”  Kirk said, as gravel elderly singing came from the other room. “Come here, and sit down, my husband decided to make tea.” Kirk escorted the Cardassian over to the living room. “And this is my cat, Maru.”  

Kirk sat down onto a couch that had a table across from it. The cat leaped into his lap. The elderly admiral was in bright colorful attire. The blinds were partially closed giving it a comfortable lightness to it in the room. Maru stared in the direction of the Cardassian. Perhaps he was still bothered by staring felines. There were a collection of novels alongside him on a shelf. Some of which Orego recognized as he was the one who had collected them during his missions retrieving them from areas that were not easy to come by. He remembered reading them himself in his quarters. A unsure time for him and for the crew regarding his defection.  Unsure because if they would accept him. Eventually, they did accept him and no one judged him on his past. What he did now mattered. That was something he appreciated the most. The Cardassian had a memorable smile at the novels then turned his attention onto the human.   The gravel singing came into the living room. He saw the shape of a very furry feline on the Vulcan’s shoulder purring loudly. The Vulcan placed the tray onto the table then moved alongside him onto the wide couch. Italian landed into the Vulcan’s lap. 

“Vulcan green tea,” Spock said. “Would you like some?”

“That’s plomeek tea,” Orego said. 

“Iit’s a different variation,” Spock said. “frankly common.”

“Terral always called it Plomeek soup,” Orego said, picking up the cup. 

“Terral?” Spock inquired. 

“Terral,” Orego said. “He is a acquentice of mine.”

“To think I used to believe they had nothing in common,” Spock took a sip from his cup then swallowed. “Did you hear about the ambush that some Orions had on a Andorian rescue mission four days ago?”

“Oh yes,” Orego said. “Tragic,  Ambassador Sarek had to negotiate between them.”

“A very high risked one,” Spock agreed.

“What is that of any interest to you two?” Orego asked. 

“We have a friend whose a Orion Slaver,” Kirk said, taking Spock’s free hand. “His name is Lyionel.”

“Young man, Vulcan, mid-twenties,” Orego said. “Psi-positive.”

“We’re not sure about the last part,” Spock said. “He has a forehead crest.”

“A what?” Orego asked. 

“It is in the shape of a ‘v’,” Spock said. “His ears look more rounded because of disruptor fire.”

“Are you saying your friend is a  Defected Romulan?” Orego asked. 

“Yes,” Kirk said. “do you have a problem with that?”

Orego shook his head. 

“None at all,” Orego said. “I suppose he overestimated being into prostitution and got in over his head,” he took a sip from the cup. “You want to know where he is … And that there is not going to be a ambush.”

“We will like the schematics to the ship,” Kirk said. “the ship our friend is assigned on.”

“His desire to fit in lead him there,” Spock said. 

“Lyionel is missing a part of his eyebrow,” Kirk said, twirling his finger above his eyebrows. “It’s more of a scar than anything. He is probably called the one without the edges of his slanted eyebrows.”

“If it makes it easier to find which ship he is located,” Spock said. 

“We are taking a risky route,” Kirk said. “Both to you and Lyionel.”

“More risky, the less chances of an ambush,” Spock explained. 

“It is the logical thing,” Kirk agreed. 

“Find the ship and send the schematics to you,” Orego said. “You don’t want Star Fleet rescuing him?”

“Star Fleet sent him there,” Kirk said. “no more star fleet officers should be part of this operation.  No more.”

“We will do it ourselves,” Spock said.

“Does the other admirals know of this?” Orego asked.

“Not at all,” Kirk said. A smile grew on the Cardassian’s face. 

“Good, I’ll take it,” Orego said. “I have been meaning to… well, you know, more fun,” he took another sip. “When do you want the kid back?”

“September, by the latest,” Spock said. “You need all the time you need to gain trust with your Andorian contacts.”

“Thank you,” Orego said, swallowing another sip. He lowered the tea cup slightly tilting his head. “Tell me, how could you not have known about Terral?” Spock and Kirk exchanged a glance together as the Cardassian talked. “He is a logical and highly decorated captain. Going to be a admiral one of these days. Very quickly.” 

“It is a long story,” Spock said.

“We’re willing to tell it.” Kirk said, moving his unoccupied hand to Spock’s knee.


	40. Chapter 40

Robau read the message that had been sent back by Orego.

The Cardassian had quickly cleared his schedule.

All meetings were called off for the time being.

Not that he was surprised by it at all since Admiral Phlox and various other admirals talked about their concerns about a defector working for two elderly time travelers. The chances that he could defect, again, on them. It was on everyone’s minds since Commodore Orego had gone through some shady in the past year. Suspicious at best. All of which were swept under the rug. Robau looked through his expected meeting regarding a new issue involving a classified matter involving sharks and several types of fish oddly returning to the ecosystem in the ocean. Robau had a theory that these two had a hand in that. He didn’t know when they did this but the did it.  Might not be aware that they had been involved in it. Robau _hated_ time travel.

Robau rubbed his temples. 

It gave him a head ache just thinking about it. 

Robau’s Andorian secretary entered the room. 

“Admiral Robau,” Janet began. “Admiral Phlox informed me that you’ve been missing out on your scheduled  health examinations. He doesn’t sound too happy that you ghosted his colleague.”

A smile grew on Robau’s face. 

“I am fine, Janet,” Robau said.  He reclined back into the chair. “I just have to finish one order of business before I get to that examination.”

“Admiral,” Janet said. “Admiral Phlox is lobbying the other admirals to get you to have a mandatory medical check, _and_ , he is personally going to make sure you are here.”

Robau  grimaced. 

“He’s going to be there,” Robau said. 

“His words,” Janet said. “I cannot infer what he meant by that.”

“All right, schedule a check up for 0700 hours,” Robau said, his hands clasped together onto the desk. “I don’t want John to worry so don’t put that in my personal schedule.”

“So private,” Janet stated. 

“Yes,” Robau said, with a defeated sigh. He rubbed the side of his face. He glanced toward the woman. “Keep the charade up that I am not going, will you? Make up a pretty good lie why everyone should drop the discussion that Doctor Phlox can go along with.”

“Yes, admiral,” Janet said, with a nod then exited his office. 

Robau turned his chair away from the interior of his office then in the direction of San Fransisco watching the sun set over the buildings. The way it was setting made the lighting around it become beautiful and a breath taking photogenic sight to commemorate.  On the edge of his light gray desk laid a photograph of Robau and his Tellarite partner with a badly photo-shopped fall scenery around them.


	41. Chapter 41

Kirk was filing out the medical padd regarding his husband’s history. Spock was listed under the name ‘Selek Miller’ with his parents listed as 'unknown’. Kirk was in his admiral uniform while Spock was in his colorful, loud sweater and long pants that ended in a way strikingly resembling the trousers used in the historic five year mission. Kirk wore his antique glasses staring down at the screen. Spock was holding Italian in his arms gently stroking the cat’s head. The cat was purring, happily, wearing a harness around his torso. Kirk stood up then briefly left his bondmate going over to the reception desk.

“Doctor T'Hell will attend to you shortly,” the receptionist said.

Spock’s eyebrows perked up and his head raised up.

“What kind of name is T'Hell?” Spock said, as his bondmate returned. “Who would name their child after a place that does not have any positive meanings?”

“The name itself sounds unique,” Kirk said, taking Spock’s hand. “You know, a name like Spock doesn’t sound too bad itself.” he wiggled his grayed eyebrows back at his partner.

“That is different, Jim,” Spock said. “I was named after the Vulcan who was of Vulcan’s early society builders.”

Kirk lowered his eyebrows with a “Oh.”

“Maybe they like colorful metaphors,” Kirk said. “This is a different timeline.”

“Poor Vulcan,” Spock said, in pity. “Not aware what it means.”

“Spock … remember the time we came across a Vulcan scientist with the name T'Heli?” Kirk asked.

“Yes,” Spock said.

“That was awfully close to the pronunciation of hell,” Kirk said.

Spock paused.

“Yes,” then Spock added. “It does.”

“And perhaps they are aware of what hell means,” Kirk said. “They are probably a little bit dark themselves.”

Spock nodded then held his two fingers out for his bondmate which was returned

“Selek Miller,” came a voice. Kirk looked over to see a Andorian nurse in white uniform. “Right this way.”

Kirk helped Spock up to his feet.

Italian fell out of Spock’s arms then landed to the floor.

Spock held onto the long black yet soft leash.

Italian guided Spock down toward the door. Spock had already spoken to Kirk about letting the cat do the guiding as it gave him some independence. Kirk understood. Italian enjoyed snoozing while his owners walked around the Kirk property, quietly, enjoying the view that the hills and green scenery made. That also complimented the blue sky littered with clouds. It was different from the walks they had around San Fransisco on their evening strolls. In a way more at home and retired. Kirk only went into Star Fleet Command for only emergencies such as the discussions over the marine life miraculously returning after the whales returned. Kirk could not explain that. Kirk looked over to see a picture of the extinct white rhino. The sad rhino with its downcasted eyes and lowered head, sadly. He looked over to see a picture of two black squirrels burying their nuts. Kirk beamed at the image. A rather hopeful, endearing image. Life goes on with the animals that were too stubborn to go extinct. Kirk and Spock came into the medical room then sat down side by side. Spock sat down with a relieved but audible sigh. Kirk looked over in the direction of his bondmate as the nurse left.

“What is wrong?” Kirk asked.

“My legs are swollen,” Spock said, quietly.

Kirk looked down to see the Vulcan’s legs were bulging then dragged over a table.

“Put your leg on the table,” Kirk requested

Spock obeyed.

“Good, this will help the swelling go down,” Kirk said.

Spock raised an eyebrow.

“My dad once had swollen legs,” Kirk said. Italian was laid in the Vulcan’s lap. “He drank a lot of water and exercised. Claimed he was dong it for the sake of science.” Spock had a laugh.

“Humans never cease to amuse me,” Spock said.

“I hope they don’t,” Kirk said. “I need you too much. I enjoy hearing your laughter.”

Spock guided his hand over placing it onto the human’s smaller but still large hand.

“Taluhk nash-veh k'du,” Spock said. _I cherish thee._

The door opened to the examination room. In came a human like doctor with messy hair then sat into the seat. Kirk saw the name tag read “Mac'ie Koster’ seemed neither male or female at first glance with non-distinguishing features. Mac'ie put their hair up into a bun with a scrunchy explaining that their arranged doctor was currently on leave claiming to be very ill for today. Then picked up a padd. They took out their medical kit placing it alongside. They reached out for the pen that was in a cup on the table. Which was across from them. They looked over, blinking, stumbled.

"Sorry about that,” Kirk said. “I am Admiral Miller and,” he gestured toward the Vulcan. “he who is my husband, Selek Miller.”

“It is difficult to walk with swollen legs,” Spock said. “Even with the shortness of breath,” Kirk turned his head toward the Vulcan as his smile began to fade. “the increased swelling is distressing. I have been unable to properly arrange myself to meditate in the past three days.”

"And?” Mac'ie asked.

“My heart beat has been rapidly beating faster than normal,” Spock said. Mac'ie wrote down on the padd. “the swelling was not as bothersome after my return to Earth.”

“You should have told me that earlier,” Kirk said.

“I did not wish that beginning of a new life with you to start on a sour note,” Spock said. Kirk grew a understanding look. It was logical. “I believed it would go away after I performed meditation and drinking lots of tea,” The Vulcan grimaced. “It only slowed the growth of the swelling. I believed it would be gone long within the month.”

“You realize that you were wrong,” Kirk said.

“Very so,” Spock said, solemnly.

“When the swelling start?” Mac'ie asked.

“It started after being in Doctor Talron’s care on the USS Shran,” Spock turned his attention toward the doctor.

Mac'ie looked up from the padd raising an eyebrow.

“Zelese Uka-ito Talron?” Mac'ie asked.

“Yes,” Spock said.

Mac'ie lowered the padd then took out a hypspray.

“Any fatigue lately?” Mac'ie asked.

“He has been sleeping more often than usual,” Kirk said. “'I thought that was partially because he is so old.”

“Mr Miller, please roll up your sleeve.” Spock rolled his sleeve up. “And you will need a chest x-ray to be sure.”

“Why?” Spock inquired, as the hypospray went in.

“Because I want to be sure what I think you have,” Mac'ie said.

Spock looked over toward Kirk, concerned.

* * *

Mac'ie turned away from the screen as Spock waited in the machine. She turned off the audio looking grimly in the direction of Kirk. Kirk recognized that look. It only said bad news. They wore the kind of grim look that normally would be seen on a doctor handing the loved one bad news. In that moment, any hope that it was just a curable illness went away. He shifted from civilian to Admiral.

“Lay it down, doctor,” Kirk said, in his captainly voice.

“Your husband has congestive heart failure,” Mac'ie said. “He has five years.”

Kirk turned toward the window then placed a hand on the screen, bitterly.

“If there was a clone of Spock can you transplant his heart to him?” Kirk asked.

“What? Mac'ie said, alarmed. "We are not authorized to do that in this hospital.”

“It can be done,” Kirk said.

“How are you so sure about this?” Mac'ie asked.

“Because I authorized a mission regarding cloning,” Kirk took his hand off the screen. “There is a civilization capable of cloning and Star Fleet has their technology in area 51.” he turned toward Mac'ie. “I am allowing you to clone my husband and save his life.”

“Admiral, I need that clones consent before the surgery,” Mac'ie said. “It is not ethical without it.”

“I knew this day would come one day.” Kirk said. “I didn’t think it would be that it would be so soon…” he had a heavy sigh. “I have my old uniform back home. It’s in a box. Covered in Spock’s DNA before . . before…” Kirk was unable to finish that thought. “You need to rapidly age his clone.”

“We will do our best,” Mac'ie said.

“You can expect the technology to be in here tomorrow morning,” Kirk said. He turned toward the window.

“What about your husband?” Mac'ie asked.

“I can imagine that he wouldn’t want his clone to see him,” Kirk said. “We will figure that part together.”

“Alright,” Mac'ie said. “How do I tell him…”

“Just tell him that we need to clone him to fix a problem the Romulan’s made,” Kirk said. “After he gets out.”

It had to be the Romulans. Those were the only people who had meant harm to Spock. Whatever they did to him. What they had done to him… Kirk’s fist trembled in anger. The ones who did it got what they deserved. The scars that Spock had received were fading from the light green grayed skin. They were dead. All of them. Every single one who played a part in harming his husband.

Mac'ie turned on the audio.

“Mr Selek, thank you for the cooperation,” Mac'ie said.

Kirk went out of the room to join with his husband.

The lift slid back and Spock came up from the bed sensing Kirk’s delight.

“Husband, you seem to be a happy camper,” Spock said.

“I am happy because I have you,” Kirk said, holding his two fingers out.

Spock returned the gesture, touching his husband’s two extended fingers.

* * *

_Kirk stood there, frozen, where he stood. He had one hand out for the Vulcan that missed his shoulder as he had stepped back. The young Vulcan was in Vulcan robes that matched his sudden turn into a dark lane. Dark long pants, pitch black shoes, black dress wear with white Vulcan calligraphy that was ancient. He looked so long. Young enough to have been Kirk’s son. He looked young to be fresh off the historic five year mission. The blue eyeliner. His face a mask of someone he once knew.  
_

_“I have decided to attend Gol and participate in a ritual known as Kolinahr, admiral,” came the rich deep familiar voice. His hands clasped behind his back. “It is unfortunate that our time together is short.”_

Spock was awakened by the sounds of familiar crying. Crying that Spock recalled from being in McCoy’s mind shortly after his death. He leaned forward feeling around in the dark. His hands landed on Italian’s head. Maru was on the corner of the bed fast asleep. Spock’s hand moved to the human’s legs. He continued patting around until his hand was on the human’s shoulder. 

“Jim,” Spock said, in concern. He wiped a tear off the human’s face. He cupped the side of the admiral’s face. “What is wrong?”

“Nightmare,” Kirk said.

"What was it about?” Spock asked.

“Your clone went to Gol,” Kirk said. “I . . I . I am scared, Spock.”

“I only considered Gol once,” Spock said. “a individual calling themselves Spock but defies his obligations as your mate by purging his emotion is not a Spock at all,” Kirk briefly closed his eyes. Thinking, _damn he’s right_. “He is a entirely different person.”

Kirk looked at Spock’s eyes.

“Are you scared?” Kirk asked.

“No,” Spock said. “I am not.”

“Why?” Kirk asked, curiously.

“Should anything go wrong during the operation… ” Spock said. “You shall have a Spock by your side, either way.”

Their foreheads were pressed together, lightly. Spock brought his free hand over to the human’s shoulder and brought him into a hug. Kirk’s head moved resting against his chest. Spock softly sang to the human. It was one of the more sleep inducing music that Kirk enjoyed listening to on the radio. Spock had made it his mission to master the lyrics for a special occasion. May it be when the power went out and share a intimate, close moment together. His right hand holding onto the human’s right hand between them. Kirk’s eyes fluttered closed as Spock reached to the ending. Spock lightly planted a kiss onto the human’s forehead then snuggled into bed holding onto the human. Kirk was never in the mood to kiss when he was upset. Spock’s eyes remained focused on his husband.

_This, too, shall pass._

* * *

Mac'ie stared at the complete set. It was a rounded tube like object with a bed at the center. Kirk’s old uniform was laid inside a small box section into the machine. She had stared at it for the past two hours. The machine was quite unmistakenable. Quite new and advanced than any technology they had seen. it was a lot like a tank with a doorway that allowed a body to be slid out. It had a wide window showing the inside of it. Their patient and the admiral were okay with the cloning. They had decided that Spock go into a stasis pod. The admiral had a cat carrier with him. The two elderly men were holding hands grounding each other down. Mac'ie turned their attention back toward the control panel. There were so many options but with the time they had spent studying it, Mac'ie was sure that they could operate it. Spock’s swelling had gone down visibly at his legs yet they still looked a little too large to belong to him. Spock’s long, grayed thumbs rubbed the sides of Kirk’s hands who looked at the Vulcan. They had been silent since their arrival. Italian was not mewing from his carrier. Spock let go of Kirk’s hands.

“Promise me that you shall not let him see me in this condition while in stasis,” Spock said.

“I give you my word,” Kirk said. “That’s better than a promise.”

Spock planted a kiss on the human’s lips, a bit unexpected. His hands cupping the side of the human’s face while the other came to the back of his head. Kirk’s hands at first were palm opened then slowly grasped onto the Vulcan’s shoulders. The admiral squeezed them, tightly. Kirk passionately returned the kiss. They stood there ignored by the younger human like individual with little thorns along the top of Mac'ies fingers. The kiss was drawn out long between the two men. Kirk’s hand slackened on the Vulcan’s shoulder becoming loose and light. _T'hy'la!_ They stood that way for fifteen minutes. The kiss became slower… and slower. Until it was Spock, the one who ended the kiss. The Vulcan cupped the side of Kirk’s face.

“Do not grieve, admiral,” Spock said.

“Who said I will?” Kirk said. “You will come back to me, Ambassador.”

“I shall do my best,” Spock said.

“The cloning machine is ready,” Mac'ie said.  The two men didn’t turn their attention to her. Then came over to the elder. “Have you been given the stasis shot?”

Spock turned away from Kirk.

“Not yet,” Spock said.

“Nurse Tehell will attend to you,” Mac'ie said.

“Did hell become a popular name that I was not aware of?” Spock said.

“It’s a beautiful name on Gorgon,” Mac'ie said.

“Well, that explains it,” Kirk said. “Gorgon did have a first contact with Earth roughly thirty years ago.”

“Logical,” Spock said. A stool was brought over to the side of the stasis pod. Spock walked up the stool then sat down into the stasis pod. The stasis pod was a size large. Nurse Tehell put the hypospray to the side of the Vulcan’s neck. Spock laid down. The door began to close on him. Spock placed a hand on the wall in the shape of the ta'al. _I love you._ “I have, and always shall be, yours.”

 _I love you, too,_ baby. Kirk replied, his hand placed on the glass. _  
_

“See you after the operation, Ambassador,” Kirk said. _  
_

 _I love you more than you do_ , came Spock’s reply.

Spock mental shields raised up as the stasis pod began to activate. The stasis pod became foggy. Spock’s hand fell from the glass leaving the imprint of his hands behind. Kirk stepped back allowing the nurses to move his pod into a stasis pod wall holder. Directly into a wall with the shape of the pod’s back end sticking out. Kirk rubbed his wrist. He closed his eyes shoveling down his rocky threatening to explode emotions. Kirk walked over as he saw the inside of the cloning machine glowing. He came to the side of Mac'ie. The shape of a wailing baby. Before his eyes came into formation that began to morph with age as a toddler, a child, a teenager, and a adult. The machine abruptly stopped mid-way. The blue color faded away. The Vulcan had jet black hair, lines littering his face, large pointy ears that were curled and not as much pointy nose.

“Doctor, what is going on?” Kirk asked.

“We can’t go any further,” Mac'ie said. “It won’t budge.”

The screen began to glow a shade of red.

“Get him out, now!” Mac'ie said. “Turn it off, turn it off!”

The nurses began flipping switches. The machine powered down little by little by each flip. They moved to the exit of the machine then opened it up. A very much naked but hairy Vulcan was slid out on the bed. The nurses dressed the Vulcan standing in the way of the admiral. Kirk was escorted out of the room by Mac'ie. He paced back and forth awaiting for word. He rubbed his hands anxiously. Mac'ie returned minutes later, collected, and calm regarding the situation.

“Admiral Miller,” Mac'ie said.

“Yes?” Kirk asked.

“Your husband. .” he braced himself. “is alive.”

Kirk sat down.

“Which one?” Kirk said, looking up.

“Both,” Mac'ie said. “the clone is asleep. He will awaken in three hours.”

“Good,” Kirk said. “I will be waiting.”

“He is in room 307,” Mac'ie said, then slid a padd forward. “He will need to sign this.”

Kirk looked down toward the padd then handed it back to her.

“You have to add in his alias,” Kirk said. “His name is Spock Miller.”

Mac'ie took the padd.

“Yes, Admiral Miller,” Mac'ie said, then left the room.

* * *

Captain Spock’s eyes fluttered open. His vision cleared from the darkness to a semi bright scenery. The lights were dim. More dim then the USS Saratoga’s sick bay. One that he found himself arriving not as often as the one on the Enterprise with Kirk in tow. The neutral zone was a place to be observed and protected at all costs.  He sensed Kirk’s presence was nearby. Right beside him. Spock’s brown eyes adjusted. 

“Spock,” came a familiar but older staccato voice.

Spock looked over. 

“Jim,” Spock said, in bewilderment. “How did you get so old?” his hands were on his knees. His hand came to the human’s broad shoulder with a gentle but caring touch. The human had grayed curly hair. His hair style had changed drastically from the last time that he had seen. The man had laughter lines around his eyes that hadn’t been there earlier. Spock could not feel the bond with Kirk. He stared at the human observing him, dumbstruck.

“We’re in the past, you’re a clone, and you need your heart.” Kirk said.

“You need my consent for the operation,” Spock said. Kirk smiled in return, brightingly.

“Yes,” Kirk said.

“I refuse,” Spock said. Kirk’s smile began to fade as a puzzled look replaced it.

“Why?” Kirk asked, feeling his heart breaking into pieces.

“I do not wish to outlive you,” Spock said.

 _Oh_ , it dawned, _oh._ It hit Kirk harder than it should. _  
_

“'That’s fair,” Kirk said. “What stardate is it?”

“2288,” Spock said.

“Captain, it is Stardate 2234,” Kirk replied. “We have been in the past together for a month.”

“I do not understand, why have you not slingshotted to the future?” Spock inquired.

“We are retired,” Kirk said. “we have outlived the rest of the crew.”

Spock was silent.

“My parents?” Spock asked.

“We outlived them too,” Kirk said. “They’re alive and they’re raising a four year old Hybrid on Vulcan.”

Spock shook his head.

“I shall not intervene,” Spock said. “And yourself?”

Kirk looked at the past, the golden days, of what had been reeling in the silence between them with hands linked behind his back.  A affectionate, admiring look. Spock was a physical reminder of a time that had been their glory days. This was a Spock who rather live in San Francisco for his retirement with Kirk in their golden years. Golden years that had passed the Vulcan like a second. Kirk came to an answer. 

“I have a timeline to work around, Captain,” Kirk said, then he wiggled his index finger. “Don’t think of taking the name Selek.”

“Really?” Spock inquired.

“Yes,” Kirk replied. “Really.”

“Then it seems I will have to choose another name,” Spock said.

“It’s Spock Miller,” Kirk said. “We decided that before the operation.”

“Your mother’s maiden name,” Spock said.

“Yes,” Kirk said.

“I do not deserve your kindness,” Spock said. “After declining to be part of a fatal procedure, heart breaking to humans, you give me a name.”

“It’s my gift for you,” Kirk said. “For everything you’ve done under my command,” Kirk held his hand up then performed the ta'al. “Live long and prosper, Mr Miller.” Kirk walked around the hybrid lowering his hand to his side. “It would be pointless to follow me home as we’re not married.” Spock realized that there was no bond between him and Kirk. Kirk turned away from the door. “Starting today, you’re a new man.”

Kirk picked up the cat carrier on his way out. Spock stood there, feeling numb, and abruptly confused what to do with himself in somewhere he most certainly did not belong. Perhaps he could… Spock deeply considered the issue at large to stay out of the timeline’s way. It was a little over thirty-three minutes was he given a new exchange of clothes. Spock looked at the history, closely, to find out a new life for himself. Where history had noted nothing alarming happened, looking back at what he did know. It was remarkable how Ji—Kirk had been able to keep himself together in the discussion without bursting into tears. Professional, calm, and—how had he done it? The scene panned to Kirk. Kirk sat down on a bench in front of a water front at a park. There was a flood of feelings coming over him. A feeling of fault and guilt.

He made a promise to Spock. Not to show the clone his aged counterpart. He couldn’t kill him as it was morally and ethnically murder. It would also mean damaging the heart. Kirk didn’t want to break the heart of the younger Vulcan, again. If they got together, Spock would have outlived Kirk. He would become Spock 2.0 and mourn the loss. Then Spock directly would land himself into trouble, get hurt, and be reunited with him in some manner and then being cloned again. So Kirk had broken the chain by setting the Vulcan free of his obligation as his husband. Kirk didn’t have the heart to tell him how old his counterpart was. Some Vulcans were known to live into their hundreds living on to three hundred when it came to being 100% pure. Italian mewed from the small cage. Kirk opened the cage. Italian slid his way out of the cat kennel. Kirk watched the sun set. He stood up and then turned toward the cat, sadly. Kirk walked away with the kennel in tow in the direction of the air car. Kirk opened the door then set into it with the kennel alongside. Italian tailed after the car Kirk drove away in.


	42. Chapter 42

“SEAAALLIIIIK~!”

A young boy crashed against the captain’s leg and wrapped his hands around the unusually more muscular legs. Miller stared down at the boy with his hands linked behind his back. He looked down toward the child raising an his right eyebrow in surprise. 

“GEORGE SAMUEL KIRK, JUNIOR!”

Miller looked up toward the woman. 

“I missed you!” Sam said.

“Get off the stranger,” Winona tugged the child off the Vulcan’s legs. “Sorry.”

“No apologies needed,” Miller said. 

“You’re the new professor at Alpha Centauri’s University,” Winona said. “Mr Miller isn’t it?”

“Indeed,” Miller said. 

“But he is Sealik,” Sam said, pointing at the taller man. 

“Sammy,” Winona said. “Not every Vulcan you see is Selek.”

“Yes mom,” Sam said, lowering his head. 

“We are not going to miss your doctors appointment,” Winona said. “Sammy, come along.”

The two walked away from the younger Vulcan. Miller turned toward the duo. Sam was like a shorter miniature version of Peter Kirk. It was Sam, who looked strikingly similar to pictures of Kirk at the age of a toddler. Why were they on Alpha Centau—unless… Miller had been lead to believe that Jim would go to San Fransisco even at retirement.  They were living together in San Fransisco last as Miller recalled. So it seemed that the admiral and Spock decided not to purchase the house and become part of its history so that their younger counterparts could live in there upon retirement. Which meant that Kirk was alone at home. Miller turned from the Kirk’s direction then walked away.

* * *

The house felt empty.

It was empty. 

All except for Maru and Kirk.

It felt empty to the admiral. 

To  Kirk, the colors were dull and dark around him. He noticed the empty spaces in the house. From the backyard that was lined in flowers. A garden that Spock had planted for Kirk earlier in their time together. Kirk weeded out the weeds. Ripping them out one by one disposing them into the gray bucket. Kirk’s hands were a shade of brown from all the tending. Kirk returned inside the house and washed his hands easily finding the gloves by the sink. The sink that was reflective of what landed onto it. Upon reflection, Kirk realized  he was not quite alive as he normally was. He stood upright drying his hands off on the nearby towel. He set the gloves onto the table alongside the doorway to the backyard. The star fleet issued padd dinged on the table. Kirk picked it up along with his glasses. 

Kirk was reading a mission report handed in by Captain Xena and her partner Gabrielle. The read was a rather detailed impressive story to the man.  He stood up pacing the room rereading and re-re-reading the report.  He came to the back porch where he saw the two empty chairs that hadn’t been put away. Maru tagged along, mewing in confusion. The two lawn chairs were seated side by side. He would wait for the Vulcan. When he was a hundred sixty, Kirk would have Spock be taken out of stasis and spend the last five years of their lives together. A painful existence but worth it all together. Kirk came to the ending of the text. 

“Ah ha,” Kirk said. “This is my kind of mission.” 

Slaying a god?

He would believe it. 

“Now which god did they slay?” Kirk said, then he reread the report. “… Cupid?” he looked at it in bewilderment then laughed. “Why would Cupid want to kill them? Wasn’t he just trying to get these two women together?” He sat down  onto the couch ad checked the list of reports sent by the USS Hood. “Hmm…” 

Maru leaped into the admiral’s lap  with a soft mew.

“I miss him, too,” Kirk said.  “I miss him too…”

It was going to be a very lonely hundred years.

* * *

There was a calico cat resting on a chair  appearing to be covered in dirt and it’s strapped harness seemed to be worse for the wear. There was a collar around the cat’s neck. If a nearby passer had knelt down to the cat then looked at the tag. They would notice it read ‘Italian Miller, seeing eye cat of Selek Miller’. David McCoy happened it be one of those passers. He held the hand of his son, Leonard, visiting Alpha Centauri to pick up Eleanor from a wild adventure she had for the sake of research. Writing novels she required going on long trips to accurate do the research. No matter how risky the visit was. 

“Paa,” Leonard plead.

“Unless ya goin’ to give it straight to its owner,” David said. “I don’t see a problem.”

“I will, I will, I will!” Leonard said, 

“Get the cat,” David requested. 

“Yes, pa!” Leonard said. Leonard picked up Italian. “Aww, this is a sad cat.”

Leonard came over to David for checked for a comn number. 

“I will make the call when we get to the hotel,” David said. “Don’t snuggle with it.”

“But paaa,” Leonard said. “the cat is sad.”

“The cat’s Italian,” David said. “Italian is not happy right now.”

“Can I wash the cat?”  Leonard asked. 

“If ya like to get your hands dirty,” David said. 

“I do, I do,  I do!” Leonard said rapidly nodding. 

“Good,” David said. “Maybe the owner is somewhere around here…”

“I hope so,” Leonard said, as they walked off the shuttle craft. 

They walked for a good while then came into a hotel. Leonard was having difficulty not petting the animal. The urge to pet it. It was extreme for a seven year old being instructed not to pet the cat. Nor to snuggle with it. The cat was overwhelming fluffy and mewing signalling displeasure at the way Leonard held him. The door to the hotel room opened and Leonard dashed right in. Leonard destrapped the harness to the cat then turned on the water and put in the plug.  Leonard felt around Italian’s sides with his fingers gently petting along the cat. He noticed the cat seemed way too thin. As though Italian had not been eating for a week or two. Leonard frowned, disapprovingly. 

Italian made itself comfortable sitting down in the sink. The harness slipped off Italian’s body. Leonard  rubbed the soap onto a towel waiting for the water to rise. Italian was relaxed, no longer mewing while looking around.  Leonard tried to take the collar. Every time his fingers approached the collar, Italian thumped him extending his claws on to the young boy’s hand repeatedly. He had nice small cuts  running along his hands. Leonard put on band-aid and resumed cleaning the cat. David locked the door behind him taking the card with him. Leonard seemingly was left occupied. His brown looked at the cat with affection. Italian stood up seemingly dried. Leonard’s hand glided down Italian’s back. Italian’s eyes were gazed on the open window. The cat leaped over Leonard’s head then climbed on to the counter then leaped out of the building. 

“ITALIAN!” Leonard called. 

Leonard bolted out of the room slamming the door shut behind him. He fled down the stairs zipping down with impressive speed. He came out of the hotel doors to find the cat running down the pavement heading in a uncertain direction

“ITALIAN!” Leonard cried. “ITALIAN! GET BACK HERE!”

Leonard’s eyes were on the ground watching after the fluffy long tail waving in the air from side to side. 

“ITAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaAAAAAALIEEEEEEEN!” Leonard hollered. 

The cat’s speed remained constant. Leonard bulldozed his way after the cat with sheer determination in his blood. His dad was going to kill him for leaving the hotel room. The southern boy slipped into campus passing by several students on his way. Italian leaped up. Italian landed in the arms of the well dressed Vulcan who was in black robes. Italian purred in the baffled Vulcan’s arms. Leonard panted, coming to a stop feet away from the professor. He placed his hands on to his knees catching his breath. 

“Sorry, Mister,” Leonard apologized. ‘This is. .” he gestured toward the cat. “Italian Miller.”

“Italian Miller,” Miller repeated. “What a unusual name.”

“Mine’s Leonard McCoy,” Leonard said.

Miller’s eyebrow vanished among his hairline then went down. The Vulcan observed the characteristically different design in Leonard’s hair style. He had seen the pictures of the doctor in his childhood. The bangs were swept to the left rather than to the right. It was fascinating. He had brown eyes rather than baby blue ones. This was not an alternate timeline but merely a alternate universe. The divergence occurred earlier than he had thought. Much earlier. Miller combed his fingers through the felines hair. 

“Professor Miller,” Miller said. 

“So this is  your cat,” Leonard said. “Your cat will follow wherever you go. You can’t just leave a cat behind and not expect it to go Homeward Bound.” 

“I may share the name of its owner but I am not,” Miller explained. He held his free hand up in the ta’al. “I am Selrek Miller.”

“Oh, well,” Leonard said. “that guiding harness wouldn’t be necessary for someone with typical eyesight.” He looked down at the cat who seemed to be purring. “My family are not really cat people. You keep it.”

“You are very kind,” Miller said. 

“Thank ya,” Leonard said. 

“May  I escort you back to your home?” Miller inquired. 

“I don’t live here,” Leonard said. “I am from Georgia, Earth. Live and breathe southern air.”

“Then why are you on Alpha Centauri?” Miller asked. 

“My parents travel a lot,” Leonard said. “Durin’ the summer. There’s two weeks off of school durin’ March. Otherwise, I’m down in Georgia with my ma and pa…”

“May I escort you back to the hotel?” Miller asked, once rephrasing  his question. 

“Sure,” Leonard said. “Follow me.”

Miller and Leonard walked side by side off campus. 

* * *

It had been one month and two weeks since the absence of the Spocks and Italian. Kirk opened the door tiredly. Maru walked into the house pressing her side against the older man’s leg. Kirk brought himself over to the couch guiding himself along it. He took off his hat discarding it onto the couch. He zipped down his blue Admiral outfit. He unzipped his pants then slid them off. He was in his black shirt that seemingly fitted his figure that had the designs of the star fleet delta decorating it in a lighter shade of black. Kirk crept up the stairs. There was not  sound within the house except for the sounds of mewing tailing after him. Kirk opened the door to his bedroom with baggy eyes. He closed the door behind him with the cat miraculously by his side. Kirk slid into bed and went fast asleep where he snored.  Maru came to the admiral’s side then curled up against his chest and purred.

Kirk missed the feel of Spock’s colder body.  Hearing the Vulcan’s laughter. The wide, long smile on Spock’s when the Vulcan’s ridgid control fell over a joke he just told. The small smiles that the Vulcan had toward the human in public. Hearing Spock’s beautiful, gravel elderly voice. There were many things the admiral found himself missing. The way he meditated. Kirk should have been alarmed seeing Spock listening to a audio books more often than meditating. The Vulcan certainly did not slow down on knitting. Somehow and some way, the Vulcan was able to knit so fast that he made elaborate shirts with designs despite being blind. To the federation, there were various types of blindness. Seeing figures but not their faces just their forms and their colors. Some saw in bat vision. Some saw only a bright light. Some only saw a gray fog covering their vision.

When Spock looked in the human’s direction, all the Ambassador visualized was his bondmate. Radiating beauty and being so attractive. Spock made him feel attractive and Kirk made him feel the same. Kirk wrapped his hand around the cat feeling tears growing along his eyes. A singular void had made itself at home. He missed Spock. Kirk clenched his eyes. His breathing unsteady then his eyes fluttered open. It was one of the last images that Spock had given him in their last mind meld together on the last morning.  Kirk smelled the feline’s fur. He had gone through a tiring mission. Oversaw it, to retrieve Charlie, the Cardassian defector, out of a anomaly with sapient beings. Ended up leading the mission all together because the captain and the first officer could not risk going into the cloud. He lost three good men trying to rescue the defector. He closed his eyes. 

* * *

_“We want him to stay.”  
_

_“He can’t possibly stay. He is mortal.”  
_

_“We can make him live forever,”_

_“What’s the point of living forever if your experiences can’t be shared? If you don’t have a friend, a companion, or someone to talk and comfort?” Kirk asked. “What is the point of life being alone in the hands of someone this officer cannot possibly trust?”_

_“We will gain his trust.”_

_It didn’t sound too good from the entities.  
_

_“Gain his trust naturally or forcefully?”_

_“That will be determined.”_

_Charlie, the Cardassian, looked over with pleading eyes.  
_

_“I am from Star Fleet,” Kirk said. “I hoped it wouldn’t come to this.. But if you don’t hand him over then I will have to order all torpedoes on your vessel,” his hands were clenching onto the hat. A admiral’s hat that Kirk wondered to himself, why did this get made? Star Fleet has no use for hats. He pressed against the elastic rim. “Your vessel is in the middle of a transport route that most shuttles take to starbases.”_

_Charlie collapsed to his feet landing to his side as a slumped figure.  
_

_“Lieutenant Charlie!” Kirk called, coming to the man’s side._

_“I like to see you try coming to him,” came the taunt.  
_

_A invisible force ripped through him leaving anger and sore all over. Kirk steadied himself, flinching. He pushed his way  through the invisible angry voice. He steadied himself down to the Cardassian’s side who was groaning in pain. Kirk flipped out his communicator to contact the ship.  Charlie’s assignment happened to be the Yeager. Kirk pushed aside the sore feeling looking around as he spoke into the communicator. The entity around him was furious.  
_

_“You can’t be doing that!”  came the scream.  
_

_“Prepare one to transport,” Kirk replied, then closed the communicator. _Charlie’s figure became outlined in a projected like image that was blue._ “If you will not cooperate with us then I have no choice but to give the order,” He stood up as Charlie’s figure vanished from his side inside the purple entity. “I don’t want to do that.”_

_“No.”_

_“Do you have friends?”  
_

_“No.”_

_“Then get out there and find those who are like you.”  
_

_“No.”_

_“You’re a lonely entity.”_

_“No.”_

_“Why do you not want to go out?”_

_“We won’t like it.”_

_Kirk grimaced. Though he understood where the entity was coming from. He did not approve of their reluctance to go out seeking for life like them. The individual had not exactly gave a good first impression. And it had been likely eons since they had spoken with one of their kind.  
_

_“You cannot keep the charade up. Separating mortal beings from their loved ones. Making  then think they were kidnapped and killed or went into the space Bermuda Triangle. Do you have no heart? Imagine if a higher up being, a celestial, did that to you. Carrying you around wherever you went without consent.  Being unable to find people to relate. Terrified, trapped, and desperate enough to find ways every day to escape. Being stuck with someone you cannot relate is a lot like that. You can’t live forever… Can you?”_

_The world began to fade before his eyes as there was silence around him. The entity was unable to respond. The powerful barrier that rippled through the admiral’s body vanished. The admiral had a sigh of relief to himself. He flipped open his communicator, “One to transport.”_

* * *

Kirk’s eyes slowly opened. There was a loud, rapid knocking on the door from downstairs. Kirk let go of Maru.  Kirk miserably got out of the bed then put on his dark shorts that ended below his knees. Tiredly, the admiral slid down his dark regulation shirt over his stomach. He looked over to see the time. He had slept a day away. Kirk didn’t feel as sore as he had earlier. The admiral came down the stairs with his hand on the wooden rail. Kirk came to the door while scratching his side. He grabbed hold onto the door then turned it and opened it to see a familiar face staring back at him.

“Ashaya,“ Miller began. _Love_. “my deepest-apologies-for-my earlier-comments-made-earlier–”

“Slow down!” Kirk said. “I do not understand a word you are saying.”

Miller sucked in a breath then exhaled. 

“What the hell. I love you. Clone or not,” Miller then elaborated. “One cannot apologize for actions such as mine.”

“There’s a old earth saying I recently learned as an admiral,” Kirk said, straightening himself. He no longer was leaned against the doorway for support. “You’re a dumbass, _Mr Miller_.”

Miller raised his thinned yet slightly more thick right, slanted eyebrow. 

“As the doctor commonly said. . “ Miller then added. “I am an idiot, not a dumbass,” Kirk laughed. A light, kind natured laugh. Miller looked on watching the admiral ride the laughter out before continuing. “I approved of the procedure despite lingering concerns that I shall still outlive you. I should have spoken about it with you instead of keeping it to myself.”

“Damn right, you should have,” Kirk said. 

Miler bowed his head. 

“I regret not talking about it,” Miller said.  “I am still confused as to why I have memories of the 2280′s rather than the 2290s.”

“That is something I don’t have an answer to,”  Kirk said. “If anything you should have the memories of the 2290′s.”

Miller looked over the human’s shoulder then back.

“Does your husband happen to be blind?” Miller asked. 

“Yes,” Kirk said. 

“I offer my eyes,” Miller said, then Kirk held his hand up. 

“He wants the eyes that he was born with,” Kirk said. “Not made. Or cloned.”

Miller nodded, in understanding. 

“I understand,” Miller said. 

“You don’t approve,” Kirk said. Miller grew perplexed.  “I know that tone, Mr Miller.”

“Why would I rather not see your face every day?”  Miller asked. 

Miller’s hand cupped along the human’s face. Kirk was sweating.  Kirk smiled, feeling the warm feelings telepathically trying to reach him. The Vulcan was in Vulcan customary two piece traveling attire complimented by his colorful kimono outfit. The Vulcan wore eyeliner. Kirk’s mental barrier remained up. The Vulcan stroked the side of the human’s face. Miller wasn’t Spock. Miller wasn’t Spock. Miller wasn’t Spock. Miller wasn’t Spock. Spock and Miller were the same person. Kirk lowered his mental shields. It then hit Kirk that he wasn’t feeling well. He was sweating. He was suddenly overcome by a resurgence of positive, strong tender feelings coming in like a old friend running into his house and into his arms. Spock placed a hand onto the human’s forehead. From there, Kirk was unsure what exactly happened. He remembered his arm being slung over the Vulcan’s shoulder, the sound of a door closing, and Miller speaking in Vulcan. Then everything else was a haze. 

* * *

Kirk awoke in bed, shirtless, with the blanket over him.

The soft hiss of a hypospray brought him back to sleep. 

“Miller?”

* * *

The second time he awoke again, Miller was taking out another hypospray. 

“Mr Miller?”  Kirk said. 

Miller put the hypospray alongside his neck and then he was out. 

* * *

“What is going on?” Kirk didn’t feel so hot anymore. 

Miller placed a hypospray along the man’s neck. 

“Rest, Jim,” Miller said. 

* * *

“ _Miller_!” Kirk said, bolting up. 

Miller was leaned against the doorframe with his arms folded. 

“You have adequately recuperated from the illness to get back on your feet,” Miller said. “I have yet to see any evidence that my counterpart has lived with you.”

_Right…_

“I put away the pictures for my own benefit.” Kirk said.

“I see,” Miller said. “You are keeping him in stasis until you and him can live the same lifespan.”

“Yes,” Kirk said. 

“Logical,” Miller came over to the chair. “You had messages from Star Fleet command regarding various matters,” Kirk was baffled. “I handled them accordingly.” Kirk looked over to see a table filled with hyposprays that had Vulcan calligraphy in what was namely doctor writing. His eyes turned in the direction of the Vulcan, alarmed, as it occurred to him. “I did it for your benefit.”

“Spock, is that Vulcan prescribed medication?” Kirk’s eyebrows raised, 

“Yes,” Miller said. 

“Do I need to know why?” Kirk asked, 

“It helped you recover quicker,”  Miller said. 

“ … It did,” Kirk laughed. “Looks like I ran myself down.” Miller set himself on to the edge of the bed. 

“I took care of the cat,” Spock said. “Maru is a unique feline.”

“Maru choose us,” Kirk said. “Adopted us… actually.”

“That is a wise feline,” Miller said, reaching his hand out for the human. 

Kirk looked up toward Miller with both hands on his lap, rising an eyebrow. 

“There’s something you are keeping back from me,” Kirk said. 

“Before I give him my heart, I would like to make you happy for today and tomorrow. On the third day is when the operation is to be done.” Miller said, bluntly. “I wish to uplift your mood. That is my main purpose in life as your partner.”

“Wouldn’t that be cheating?” Kirk asked. 

“Jim, I am his clone,” Miller reminded

“Humor me. Is it logical?” Kirk asked. 

“We are the same person,” Miller said. 

“‘You’re separated by a lifetime,” Kirk said.

“So?” Miller raised his eyebrows.  “That never stopped us.”

“It never did,” Kirk said, as a soft smile grew on his face taking the Vulcan’s hand. 

“Forgive me, but you need a shower,” Miller said. 

“Where have you been sleeping?” Kirk asked. 

“The downstairs couch,” Miller said. “the recliner, and the bedroom couch.”

“Your poor back,” Kirk said, patting the Vulcan’s back.

“It was a fair exchange,” Miller said, guiding the human toward the bathroom. “I prepared your morning wear,” the Vulcan gently squeezed the human’s butt then whispered into his ear. “I saved the weeding for you.”

“Hey, I am supposed to be the one pampering you,” Kirk said. 

“For now, it is the other way around as it should have been,” Miller  said, gently guiding the human into the bathroom then closed the door behind the human. 

Miller put his back against the door closing his eyes regretfully.  Miller sensed the atmosphere inside the house coming to life. It was odd how the admiral’s unexpected lighting brought it to life. It wasn’t the morning light or the evening light doing the trick. Miller made his way down the stairs then prepared to make the human’s breakfast. Maru hopped onto the counter mewing. Miller applied some cat food into the cats bowl. Maru quickly went to work eating. Minutes later,  Kirk came down the stairs with a yawn. Kirk noticed there was a pair of gloves by the plate. Kirk smiled, brightly, back at the clone. 

* * *

The next two days were full of lovemaking. Though Miller had decided on not bonding them together as their time in the same house was severely limited. Miller watched the human sing while tending to the garden throughout the evening. Kirk enjoyed the way that the Vulcan touched him. It was different to the make outs that he had with the older Spock. Nice and slow like a old couple taking their time. This one was deeply passionate and very long absorbing every little feeling. It was a mix of slow and tender. A part of what Kirk found endearing with his partner. Kirk was the first to fall asleep both nights. Miller had a cold body, whenever they were close, which was odd since he wasn’t as old as  his counterpart. The cold temperature brought Kirk to sleep for the two nights. Kirk was ashamed to admit but he was taking advantage of how young Miller was. Doing everything that he wished he should have done Spock in their youth. Miller seemed fascinated by the man’s larger body. A look of intrigue and admiration as though he had laid eyes on the most beautifully crafted statue in his life. Their sessions together lasted for a few hours around the house.

Kirk had become prepared for the operation. Off duty, retired, civilian. His favorite buttoned up black and white plaid shirt. Comfortable long pants that felt comfortable to his skin and around yet below his stomach. Kirk had counted each time the clone had smiled. Kirk had smiled more than he had in the past month. Miller had given him refreshments. Done improvements around for the sake of his counterpart that were minor and not something that could detriment the memories their future counterparts will make in this house. Kirk and Spock sitting on the porch swing together watching  the sun set be replaced by a beautiful night sky. Their fingers interlocking together while seated together. 

The look of awe on the Vulcan’s face on the night sky. 

Miller gave him memories that his counterpart had to see. 

No iffs or buts about it, it was the aesthetic. 

It was something Kirk agreed to do. 

The communicator beeped. 

“Miller here,” Kirk said. 

“He consented!” Mac’ie said. “We are prepping your husband for surgery. You must attend. The heart will be in thirty three minutes.”

Miller smiled, waving back at Kirk, doing last touches to the garden. 

“What do you mean?” Kirk said, waving back as he slowly turned away from Miller. “It’s going to be an hour.”

“Spock Miller has been dead for the past week. The heart has been kept secure and safe. There was a science station explosion on the USS Amsterdam, he was a passenger, heading to Earth. And he was right there.” Kirk’s hand trembled. “It was a ion storm. There was no way to save him. The pain was too much for him. It killed him.” Kirk turned away to see the garden had no kneeling Vulcan. 

“I will be right there,” Kirk said. “Classify the operation.”

“Yes, sir,” Mac’ie said. 

“Thank you for informing me,” Kirk’s voice went solemn. “Doctor. Miller out.”

Kirk slid the communicator into his pocket then there was knocking at the door. Kirk came to the door then opened it to see that there was a older black woman  with two children by her side, one black and the other white resembling his dear friend McCoy.  Otherwise, the two looked strikingly alike. Twins. In the taller woman’s arms was Italian with a new harness handle on. Kirk recognized her as Eleanor, the little girl as Donna, and the last child was Leonard. 

“Star Fleet said ya live here,” Eleanor said. “Here is your cat, Mr Miller.”

Eleanor handed Italian to Kirk. 

“Nice house,” Donna said. 

“I hope Italian enjoys it,” Leonard agreed. 

Italian snuggled into the human’s arms happily. 

“Long as you don’t abandon that cat, again, I won’t report you for animal neglect,” Eleanor said. 

Kirk nodded. 

“I won’t,” Kirk said. 

* * *

Spock’s eyes opened feeling well rested on a biobed.  

“My husband, attend,” the words were shaky coming from someone who once said them with confidence and certainty. 

Spock leaned up holding his two fingers out meeting the admiral’s gesture. 

“Yes?” Spock said. A tearful smile appeared on the admiral’s face. A smile that Spock could not see. 

“You’re back,” Kirk said, squeezing the Vulcan’s shoulder.

Spock raised an eyebrow. 

“Did you doubt the skill of the doctor?” Spock asked. 

“For a moment there…” Kirk said. “I was scared you were not going to come back to me.”

“I always come back for you,” Spock said. “Come here, ashaya.” _Love_.

Spock brought the human into the hug. He sent a wave of comfort and assurance toward the human, closing his eyes. Spock sensed that they were being watched by Doctor Mac’ie. His fatigue was no longer present. His legs didn’t feel swollen anymore. And he longer had shortness of breath. Spock thanked the great bird of the galaxy. Mac’ie turned away from the two older men then walked away filing out the padd.  Italian was set inside a cat carrier in the same room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rest stop! Please drink or eat if you are reading this when it is a completed work for those who read on into the night. Thank you.


	43. Chapter 43

Spock and Kirk’s routine returned to normal. In their next mind meld, Spock was given images from the clone. He was confused at first until the memories explained it all away. The choice that Kirk was faced with. No one should be faced with that. He should have thought of something like it happening. He had crafted a Kobyashi Maru. It hadn’t been Spock’s intention to do so. He never expected it happening. Kirk explained that he had thrown away the old uniform as he would never use it again after the cloning. Spock suspected that he hadn’t thrown it away and that it was still in Area 51′s hands. Mac’ie had monitored the Vulcan with equipment and the biobed reading before their departure to Riverside. Mac’ie did thorough tests to be sure the heart wasn’t being rejected before discharging him.

On the bright side, he was given memories of pleasant sights. New, updated memories. Such as the night sky, Kirk, and Italian laid in Miller’s lap. The hundreds of smiles on the admiral’s face. His joyful laughter. His pleasure.  The hopeful look on his face. The optimistic one at that. The loving, admiring, fond aged look Kirk had  shared toward him. Yet it was in a domestic setting. Kirk tending to his garden singing happily. The looks on his face when they made love and how happy he generally seemed to be. Spock would not trade those fleeting sights for his eyes. Those sights can last him a lifetime. Holding the admiral after a steamy session in the living room was gratifying. To think that he had the admiral for another hundred years barring the chances of outliving him. Vulcans had a tendency to live well into their two hundreds. Since he was half human, Spock wouldn’t live past two hundred fifty eight. Spock slid out of bed then came over to the comn terminal that was beeping with a recently sent message.

“Computer, access comn terminal,” Spock requested, linking his hands behind his back.

“Comn terminal accessed,” the computer replied.

“Who is the new message for?” Spock asked.

“Mr Selek Miller,” the computer replied.

“Who is it from?” Spock inquired.

“Selrek Miller,” the computer said.

“Open new message,” Spock requested.

“This message is in audio format,” the computer began.

“Play the message,“ Spock said.

The computer had a familiar trail of beeping.

“Greetings, Mr Kirk,” there was that familiar, deep young voice.

“Mr Miller,” Spock said.

“I have encountered Doctor McCoy in his youth. He had brown eyes. I conducted research into the history of each and every crewmember who had been born before this stardate. Mr Scott, in this universe, was raised by a widowed Mrs Scott. His father, just a day after being married, died due to a blue lightning in space that he was exploring in his EVA suit.  It killed him instantly. Mrs Scott had a closed donor contract with his brother. She wanted a piece of her husband one way or another. Mr Scott was born on the planet Earth, Scotland. With further research, it is safe to say that Mr Scott will not have brown hair but red hair.”

“Fascinating,” Spock said, in a low intrigued voice.

“Indeed,” came Miller’s voice.

“So most of Mr Scott’s upbringing will remain the same,” Spock acknowledged.

“It appears so,” Miller said.  “Most, but not all. He will end up the same Scotsman we knew.”

“I look forward to meeting him,” Spock said,

“Beware, Mr Kirk,” Miller said. “you may come across Doctor McCoy and be mistaken as me.”

“Your warning has been most helpful,” Spock said,

“Dif-tor heh smusma.” _Live long and prosper._

“Sochya eh dif.” _Peace and long life._

“Message completed,” The computer said. “There are in total forty-three messages from Star Fleet Command.”

“Exit comn terminal,” Spock said.

Spock made his way over to the bed then came over to the human’s side. A memory of Miller came to. The human laid on his side with messy curled grayed hair and seemingly happy in his sleep. The way the sunlight landed on the human’s figure. Spock grew a smile himself with his attention on the human. Maybe it was the way his skin and esthetic glowed in the morning. Kirk kept getting more beautiful as the day went on. The memory that Miller had left for him easily said it still was that way. Spock had come a long way from eating soft food to solid foods and his night terrors of Kirk vanishing in the middle of the night in is arms leaving him alone. Alone enough to realize that he was never there then wake up crying. After all his husband did for him, Spock could only repay him every day by being there. Spock placed a hand onto the human’s warm cool shoulder. 

“Good morning, Jim,” Spock said. Kirk turned toward the side of the bed.

There were groaning sounds from the elder human.

“It’s not even morning, Spock,” Kirk replied, then turned back toward Spock. The Ambassador slightly tilted his head.

“What time is it then?” Spock inquired, with a raised eyebrow.

“Three forty-three in the morning,”  Kirk said.

“My bad,” Spock said.

“Come back into bed,” Kirk said. “one more hour. Please.”

“As you wish,”  Spock said.

Spock situated himself into the bed into a cuddle with the admiral. Kirk’s eyes closed as the coldness radiated off the Ambassador’s arctic like body. Kirk snuggled into the Vulcan’s grip falling back in slumber. Spock combed his fingers on the humans backside. Gently, carefully repeatedly with the side of his fingers. His hands came to the man’s lower rear cupping them with his cold, long old fingers. The admiral’s lower rear warmed the ambassador’s hands. Spock’s hands trailed up to the human’s waist where they uselessly laid. The Vulcan purred, closing his eyes. Even being fully rested, Spock took the opportunity to hold the human in his arms.


	44. Chapter 44

“Commodore Orego, what brings your holo-call?” Kirk asked, his hands clasped together onto the table.

“It regards your request,” Orego was sitting down into a chair that wasn’t there. He was not in star fleet issued uniform but rather than in a comfortable two piece outfit. In the blue theme to the hologram there was no way to determine any other color.

“I can’t help but feel concerned…” Kirk said

“My contact brought me over to the ship your friend Lyionel might be,”  Kirk stiffened. “He wasn’t there.”

“You found something,” Kirk said.  Orego nodded back.

“Yes,” Orego said. “Rough idea of what vessel the kid is on.”

“What kind is it?” Kirk asked.

“It’s the Etadubran Puroskar,” Orego said. _Slave owners, house of unpure_. “That’s going to take longer than I thought finding the defector. I haven’t seen the quarters or the ship itself. Been on the legal woman trafficking Orion ships as I have come to learn.” Kirk’s heart sank.

“How so?” Kirk asked.

“This vessel is evasive,” Orego said. “My contact said that they cannot help me any further. So I have to find a security officer or a woman that is part of the vessel. I can do this on my own to get him.”

“You won’t want that,” Kirk said. 

“I will be armed and dangerous,” Orego said.

“The point is that no one has to die,” Kirk said. “You’re part of Star Fleet.”

“Who says I am interested in peace when it comes to retrievals?” Orego asked.  Kirk grew a dark look toward the Cardassian. A look that could kill.

“That’s not very Star Fleet of you saying that,” Kirk said. “Just because you’re a Commodore doesn’t mean you can things like that.”

“Maybe it’s me,” Orego said, with a shrug. “I am falling out.”

“Section 31 is expected to do things like _these_ but coming from a star fleet official?” Kirk looked at him in disgust. “Firing is the last thing we do ship to ship if it has to be done… We are not going to start a war with the Orions.”

“Sometimes we need war to make a change,” Orego said. “Have you not thought about that?”

“I have,” Kirk said.  “And I have to say.”

“Can’t possibly be a excuse not to save lives,” Orego said, sarcastically.

Kirk stood up from the chair then walked around the desk.

“Have you considered what that would mean for you? As Commodore, you would be needed all the time in a sector of space near the Cardassian border. Commanding a squadron. Fleet Captains would out number you. The crews resenting you for starting a war. No respect.  Only contempt. I really believe they won’t be able to be professional around you. People will try to kill you. You, a warmonger, dying in the field of action before you could ever finish the war that _you_ started. A war that will never end,” he stepped forward with slow deliberate pauses between his words. “You become a member of the fallen in service officers. A number, a officer, and someone that history will wish it never knew. You would be the worst of the worst. The kind of people who go to penal colonies and prison ships for life,” he came to a stop two feet from the Cardassian. “If you kill most of the crew of the ship including the captain and you have some survivors who call for back up,” Kirk placed his hands onto his hips. “I will be there but _we_ won’t be happy.”

“We?” Orego said, feeling icy.

“Archer, Phlox, and a number of admirals,” Kirk said. “Chances are, you will be court martialed. This is a direct order: do not kill anyone. Not even while you get the map of the ship.” He stepped aside briefly closing his eyes keeping his anger at bay, dissapointed. “You are not allowed on that ship. At all.”

“But Admira—” Orego said.

“I said **NO**!” Kirk turned toward the Cardassian, emotionally _and_ furiously. 

“You are vulnerable and easily taken down,” Orego said

“I got Spock,” Kirk said. “And I am a admiral. We’re stronger than we look.” He walked over toward the desk. “Computer, end long distance call.”

The cardassian vanished  in mid-sentence making the comment that younger people were fully capable of taking out older individuals. Kirk picked up the padd that indicated a new mission report had come in. He leaned into the chair taking out his glasses from the drawer. He squinted at the screen in disbelief. The door to his office opened abruptly. Kirk looked up to see a young man, a familiar man from Star Fleet history books, Lorca. His stomach twisted at seeing the young man in his office.  From behind him came a young woman in medical whites with her hair  up in a bun. He looked down to see that it read “Cornwell and Lorca are insistent on rescuing Captain Gatsby. From Robau’. The admiral grimaced. He had just placed himself into the way of history. Their history not star fleet history. Good thing nothing comes of it.  He looked over at their sleeves then leaned back into the chair putting on his captainly demeanor.

“Ensign Lorca, Lieutenant Cornwell,” Kirk said. “I am sorry, I can’t authorize that.”

“We haven’t started telling you about it,” Lorca said.

“Our captain is back there,” Cornwell said. “He might be suffering pyschological symptoms—”

“Do you even know who I am?” Kirk asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Not the point,” Lorca said. “The captain was left behind with a society that is running low on sacrifices to their gods.”

“Pre-warp civilization,” Cornwell said. “They think to appease their gods… they must kill someone every night under the moon to ensure that morning comes. Elaborate bloody ceremony. They are heading in the direction of falling apart as a civilization. On the verge. If we leave the captain there, this will speed up the process.”

“Which counts as violating the prime directive,” Lorca added.

“Do they know that he is a starship captain?”  Kirk asked.

“No,” Lorca said.

“Go to Admiral Robau.” Kirk said.

“He declined,” Cornwell said.

Kirk sighed, _of course_.

“Ask him again, and tell him I don’t appreciate being reminded of this issue we haven’t resolved,” Kirk said. “Off you go, please now,” he stood up from the desk. “Tell him if he doesn’t give in then I am going to tell his partner that he didn’t have a medical check up.”

The two colleagues exchanged a glance together.

“Go on, please,” Kirk said, dismissively waving them off.  

The two left his office. The office was not as wide as most admirals. On his desk was a picture of Spock and himself, smiling turned toward the large comfortable dark chair. There were  pictures of the cats, and primarily, some photographs that he had taken of his husband without being aware of it. It was a square room that had several plants automatically watered by the watering system. There was no windows that was made for by unique replications of classic paintings.  In fact his office was in a part of the building not easily located with its admirals, vice admirals, rear admirals, and so on. His required hours at Star Fleet  HQ made him feel miserable but Spock being here more than made up for helping out with all the paperwork. Desk job wasn’t really his thing. A part time retired life was good enough. Being somewhere that he wanted to be, home.  Kirk made his way over toward the elevator. He inputted a floor number then walked on in.

The doors closed in front of him then slowly went down. The door reopened moments later. The admiral walked off the elevator then made his way down the hall. He came through a doorway.  He came into the playroom then leaned against the wall watching Spock read to a group of toddlers with their eyes on him. Spock’s long grayed hair was put in a roller bun. Spock was pretending to read from a children’s book in his hands when in reality he was on page two making up a story as he went. The children were enjoying the story, regardless. Kirk grew a smile on his face watching his husband, proudly, babysitting the children. It reminded him of the times that he caught Spock reading stories to Saavik. Their adoptive daughter would be pleased to see that someone heard the way he told a story. Perhaps working at Star Fleet HQ wasn’t so bad after all. It was Spock’s way of being near the human finding himself something to do (which, namely, were hosting events such as animal day, plant day, story telling day, and other fun events) and come home _exhausted_. Falling asleep together in bed and holding onto Spock was worth it.


	45. Chapter 45

“How’s my favorite  pinkskin doing?” came the familiar voice of his partner. 

Archer sat down into the chair. 

“That’s impressive, Shran,” Archer said. “I just got here after my vehicle had ‘solar absorbing’ problems. So I had it towed, walked  here, and took over an hour to get here. On the way there, I was surrounded by papparazzi asking about a mission I didn’t know you were taking.” 

“It’s something I can handle,” Shran replied. 

“Shran,” Archer said. 

“It’s perfectly safe,” Shran said. “You do not need to be concerned.”

Archer was skeptical. 

“Then why didn’t you tell me about it last night?” Archer asked, leaning back into the chair. Shran’s blue holofigure sat across from him holding onto what seemed to be a glass of Andorian Ale in one of his hands with a smile. Shran always seemed to always have them around him where-ever he went. Frankly, it was a mystery better left unsolved.

“It’s a personal matter,” Shran replied.

“So it’s another debt you’re fulfilling,” Archer leaned back. “What is it this time?”

“It’s not alarming,” Shran insisted. 

“Look, you made me late,” Archer cupped his hands together. “That’s a cause of alarm. Why did you make me late?”

“The commodore had scheduled meeting,” Shran explained. “I expected it to take longer than thought,” the Andorian admiral took a sip from his glass. “I was right.”

“I fell into the debt of a Cardassian. You know, that Commodore,” the skin on Archer’s face drained. “I am bringing him to a hub where a certain type of vessels that he is looking for go to decide business. I will be back in three standard days.” Archer then nodded to what his partner had said.

“Care to  explain about your debt after you get back?” Archer asked. 

The well aged Andorian smiled back. 

“I intend to explain it thoroughly,” Shran said. “Love you.”

“Love you, too,”  Archer said, and then the Andorian vanished. 

He looked down toward his padd with a list of schedules that he had to be part of. Determining if a starbase should be named Starbase Enterprise. His eyebrows raised. Ridiculous, there was a better name for that. His mind wandered off to earlier it hit him. Admiral Kirk had been talking about Starbases weeks ago, or maybe it days ago, the man wasn’t quite sure. Starbases that he was extensively familiar to and their names while they were having lunch. Spock was by his side eating Plomeek soup. He should have asked why he was talking about it.

At least they could change the name of the starbase in the meeting to something better.  

The Enterprise was a exploring vessel not a stationary one.


	46. Chapter 46

“Jimmy hasn’t said his first words,”

“Excel–” Spock stopped mid-sentence. He stared at Winona. “No, you are _joking_.”

“I am not joking.”

“That’s a nice way to start off his vacation.”

“You will make an excellent babysitter.”

“I learned from the best.” 

“Who was the best?” Spock looked insulted by her question. 

“Mrs Winona Kirk, I _cannot_ say that.”

“I get to meet them.”

“You do,” the elder nodded. 

“Oooohohhh boy, Mandy is going to be thrilled,” Winona rubbed her hands together. 

Spock raised his slanted gray eyebrow. 

“You do realize my identity is classified,” Spock reminded. 

Winona grew a wide smile in return.

“I am going to come across her during my vacation, so it’s just a trivial question, besides, I got you down as a long lost uncle married-in-law of George’s,” Winona said. “That’s what my friend knows.”

Spock narrowed his eyes toward her. 

“Really, Winona?” Spock inquired. 

“That’s all she knows,” Winona said. “May I hug you?” Spock raised an eyebrow. 

“You never need to ask,” Spock said. 

Winona brought the elder into a welcoming hug, and said, “Thank you for keeping my sons alive.”  Spock closed his eyes allowing himself to smile, while experiencing gratitude spreading through him. His hands laid onto the center of his back right below his shoulder blades. Winona’s hands were onto Spock’s waist. It was Winona who ended the hug stepping back from the elder. Kirk was in the background going over to the panel in front of the machine while holding his younger counterpart in one arm rocking him back and forth. Kirk had already given a hug to his mother before boarding the shuttle. 

“Live long and prosper,” Winona said. 

“Peace and long life,”  Spock returned.

The shuttle craft lifted off into the sky. Spock made his way toward the seat  going in a straight line as though there a row of seats.  Italian mewed waiting for him. Italian reached his arms out for the Vulcan. His long, boney grayed green fingers planted onto the sides of the large furry body bringing him up to his shoulder. He sat down alongside the admiral. Kirk began to sing for the little blue eyed child. Spock visualized the sight in his mind. His husband soothing the younger  in a endearing, loving way. Italian slid into the Vulcan’s lap. Spock graciously stroked the cat.

* * *

Spock had known a handful of blind officers in his lifetime, and the ones that he had came across were able to see color just not faces. Geordi La Forge was among them. Prosthetic eyes were trending in the federation for those who did not wish to remain that way. Now just seeing darkness twenty-four-seven compared to them was different. Though he grew more of a understanding how it was like visually living this way more than a day. Spock and Kirk went on their secret mission while taking take of Sam and Jim. The individual hugs they shared with Winona, “Take care of my sons, _Miller,_ ” was nothing short of warming. Kirk wore gloves around Jim, as the first time around of being jolted by himself left his hair singed. The laughter that Spock had let loose afterwards with Jim (while Kirk and Sam were on another part of the mission) startled the toddler. 

Jim touched Spock’s long, pointy nose.

“S—–” Jim started, gently patting. 

“No, don’t,” Spock said. 

“Sp—-” Jim started. 

“Jim, no,” Spock protested.

“Sqawk!” Jim said. 

“Oh no,” Spock said. 

“Spawk!” Jim clapped his hands together. 

Spock looked in both directions, annoyed,  then applied his fingers on the side of the child’s face.  The little toddler’s first words were not going to be his name. They hadn’t met, _yet_. Afterwards Spock applied the Vulcan nerve pinch to the child then erasing the memory with ease. Jim’s face twisted and his face turned a familiar shade of red. The toddler squirmed in the Vulcan’s arms. Spock placed him into the table then took out the diapers and baby wipes.  He cleaned off the butt and what else he could relying off memory taking care of a toddler in the line of duty. A very human baby. Spock added a new diaper under the baby then applied on. Spock picked up the child applying Jim to the corner of his arm. The back end to the shuttle opened. In came a young man crashing inside with half of a star fleet uniform barely hanging on covering the side of his torso with a hand. 

“Husband!” Kirk called. “Prepare for lift off!”

“What happened?” Spock inquired, as the starfleet officer came further into the shuttle place himself onto the side of the wall alongside.  Kirk  ducked back into the shuttle craft adding another lower half to the phaser replacing what had been used. 

“The Catalians happened!” Kirk replied. 

“I thought they hadn’t been here at this point,” Spock said, coming over to the pilot seating pressing a button. He remembered the way the console was presented. 

“So did I!” Kirk replied. “Selek!” 

“Working on it,” Spock replied. 

“SAAaaaaAAAAAAAM!” Kirk ducked his head out, face red, sweating. “GET  YOU BUTT BACK HERE OR GOD HELP ME! I DID NOT SAY TO PLAY WITH THAT DISRUPTOR!” _My god, I’ve turned into Bones._ Did it hit him. “SAM!”

“This is no place to let a child go pee,” Spock said. 

“The restroom in here isn’t exactly ideal!” Kirk replied, as Sam leaped into the shuttle as the back end flew up. “GO, GO, GO!”

The shuttle craft flew up launching into the sky while disruptors were being fired at its direction.

“I thought we were getting two officers,” Spock said. 

“Catalians killed the second officer.” Kirk said,  as Italian stared at the officer. “You…” he deactivated the phaser. “You have betrayed everything Star Feet has stood for,” he slowly approached the man. “Do you have anything to say for yourself, Commander Rogish?” Kirk was standing above the officer, 

“It had to be done,” Rogish said. “We would have lost a valued member of the federation had we not intervened.”

“It wasn’t _your_ decision to make,” Kirk said. Spock came over to Sam’s side while holding Jim in one arm.  “Star Fleet command could have decided unanimously and done it right,”  Kirk came to the pilots seat then put in the directions. “You acted as the judge, jury, _and_ prosecutor.” he turned in the direction of the officer, at a loss of words, trying to wrap his head around it. A look of dismay with shame. 

“What would you have done were you in my place?” Rogish said. 

“Less death,” Kirk said. “More diplomatic”

“More creative ways to avoid death,” Spock said, placing the children side by side. He turned in the man’s direction. “You are never going to serve in Star Fleet a day with what you have done.”

“If I abided the rules, those people…” Rogish said. “All of them dead.“

“Sometimes we have to make decisions that we don’t like,” Kirk said. “And you liked this one. Too much.” He came toward the man. “You’re under arrest for assassinating a high ranking individual within the Catilian republic, breaking a prisoner out of jail, and killing the eyewitnesses, _the accusers_ , before they could testify.”

“I stand by my choices,” Rogish said, parting his bangs. 

“Catalians don’t torture their own,” Kirk said. 

“Not like you’ve been in Catalian prison,” Rogish said. It stuck a cord in the admiral. He knew what torture was like being on away missions and being held captive. Sometimes he was tortured for information.  “They torture you for days, burn you out with questions, burn you, and do things to your body.” 

“I am very familiar to Captain Bole’s account,” Kirk said. 

He looked up. 

“I know you don’t approve of it but it had to be done,” Rogish said. “the innocent are protected.”

“Death is never the answer,” Kirk said, firmly. Then he came over toward Sam. “are you alright, Sammy?”

“Best, break, ever,” Sam said. 

“It appears the Kirk family enjoys running from danger,” Spock said, jokingly. 

“No, no, no,” Kirk said, patting on the child’s shoulder. “This is not part of your vacation.”

“Why?” Sammy asked. 

“Personal,”  Kirk said. “Don’t tell mom.”

“Or your father,” Spock said. 

“Okay,” Sam said. “What then?”

“Uncle,” Jim said. They turned their heads in the toddler’s direction. “Uncles.”

Kirk smiled, broadly. 

“Jimmy said his first word in space,” Kirk said, holding his two uncovered fingers. Spock returned the gesture. “That’s what you say what happened in the beginning.”

Spock handed the human a pair of cuffs and a dermal generator with his other hand. 

“A word to the un-wise,” Spock said. “don’t leave on a away mission without a doctor or medical kit.”


	47. Chapter 47

Orego was seated on a biobed holding a padd in his slowly being repaired hand. He was  being tended to by a Tellarite nurse. He closed his eyes. He had successfully completed a mission but had ended up in  skirmish with a slave ship. Some casualties were expected. They had to fire back. There was no choice. Locking in on them and requesting to know why a star fleet vessel was in Orion space. They had no authority to be there from the Orions or Star Fleet command itself. He looked up opening his eyes to see admiral  Mayweather.  His grayed hair and graying beard made him look older than he was.  

“Admiral Mayweather–” Orego began. 

“I only came here to make sure that Admiral Shran came out of it all right,” Mayweather said. “Shran is a very special exception to taking out into a part of space.” Orego sighed rolling an eye. 

“Because he is your former captain’s partner,” Orego said. 

“He is one of histories most regarded Andorian allies,” Mayweather said. “and a great allie at best.” the last part came out like a dagger straight into the heart of the cardassian.”

“You’re saying I am not a great allie?” Orego asked. 

“I am saying you’re not doing a good job of it,” Mayweather said. “you know he is not as he used to be.”

“He lost an antenna,” Orego said. 

“He could have lost his life,” Mayweather emphasized. 

“He is a good shooter,” Orego said. “He has not gone rusty.”

“I really think whoever put you up to this didn’t want anyone to die over it,” Myaweather said, as Orego pressed the send on the padd. He looked up toward the human. 

“That is about it,” Orego said. “I wasn’t really lucky with this mission.”

“I know you would have done your best to follow orders,” Mayweather said. “Luck has nothing to do with it.” Orego frowned. “And if the Orion Government wants to file charges against you, anyone from that ship for that matter, you have to face the consequences.”

“Gladly,” Orego smiled a thin, wide smile in return.


	48. Chapter 48

_Spock!_ , Kirk called through the bond. 

A loud and alarming call. 

The Ambassador sped from the garden. He slid the door open bolting past the two toddlers playing in the improvised playroom that had a Disney movie playing with Jim’s rapid attention laid onto it. Spock made his way up the stairs and followed the familiar path to the bedroom. Kirk was holding a padd appearing to be emotional. Spock came to the side of Kirk. Behind Kirk was several clothes that were neatly folded prepared to be put away on the bed. A well made bed that seemed to be decorated in images of space. 

“What is it, husband?” Spock inquired. 

“Orego sent the ship schematics,” Kirk said. “the updated one. Updated at the beginning of this week.”

“That is excellent news,” Spock said.

“Yeah, but about the children . .” Kirk said 

“You have a assistant in HQ that you can use,” Spock reminded. 

“Andrea?” Kirk said, rubbing his chin.  “I don’t know about her,” Kirk sighed. “She does not like children. I can’t burden her with them.”

“Hm, that is a pickle,” Spock said “We could take them with us.”

“It is not August, yet,”  Kirk said. “I am happy but . . “

“Orego has sent us the map  near the end of July,” Spock said. 

“The stories were true. .  .” Kirk said. “He is not patient.”

“Perhaps we can drop them off at a babysitter’s house,” Spock said, with a nod while placing a hand on the man’s waist. “For the week,” Kirk looked over toward Spock. “On our last trip to the elderly community center, I overheard there is a Andorian/human  individual who wishes to care of children temporarily for parents. “

“I know that man,” Kirk said. “He was always that way…Mr Da’leek. Did have a very scary, creepy house. He’ll do.”

“Scary, creepy house,” Spock repeated, raising an eyebrow. 

“By the outside,” Kirk said. “We can trust him. He once babysat me when I was a toddler.” 

“I shall arrange for the shuttle craft rental,” Spock said, then he started to walk away heading in the direction of the doors. Kirk  sensed that Spock was filled with concerning reluctance through his side of the bond.

“Spock,” Kirk said, turning in the ambassador’s direction. 

“Yes?” Spock replied.

“Do you look forward to this?” Kirk asked. 

“I do not look forward to you seeing how Lyionel’s condition might be,” Spock said. Kirk didn’t look forward to it, either. A memory of McCoy’s head nurse’s condition came to. Disturbing, at best. Chapel refused to believe that they used to be friends. The way she was dressed was unlike her. “repairing the damage the Orions did to him . .  .  Now  that, I _do_ look forward.”

Kirk nodded. 

“Do you?” Spock inquired. 

“I only knew him as a defector whose quarters was the brig,”  Kirk said. “Bole wasn’t taking any chances back then.”

“Understandable,” Spock said. 

“Yet you don’t approve of it,” Kirk said, raising an eyebrow. 

“She could have posted security on his quarters,” Spock said. Kirk lowered his eyebrow. “he was not a criminal. Or a threat.”

“That’s what I would have done,” Kirk said. “I will call Mr Da’leek,” Spock had a short lived nod then made his way out with hands linked behind his back. “Italian, make sure he gets to the kitchen.”

Italian zipped from one corner of the house past the doorway after the Vulcan.


	49. Chapter 49

The Orion security officers came to the docking port. The pair of doors opened to reveal there was no one where. The security officers walked in looking around for signs of life. The security team went into the shuttle craft coming over to the panels. The shuttle craft was large enough to be a bus but wider.  The Orion Officers made their way from the shuttle craft. The doors remained open to the shuttle craft leading into the ship. Spock, Kirk, and Italian appeared on the center of the shuttle craft. 

_Ready?_ , Kirk asked, looking over toward Spock holding onto his hand. 

Spock took out a Vulcan stunning themed phaser then handed it to Kirk with a nod.

 _The stunner will have them be out for half an hour_ , Spock replied, _you must use it wisely.  
_

 _I will,_ Kirk replied holding his two fingers out. 

Spock touched Kirk’s fingers.

 _We are ready_ , Spock replied.

Italian leaped to the floor then the two men walked off while Spock held onto the leash.The two elderly bondmates followed the path that they had chosen. It was the path that was down the corridor on section C. They were in attire that made the camera’s turn off. The sensors suddenly not work. A Orion security officer came into their way. Kirk fired the first shot. The Orion  fell to the floor with a gentle thud. Spock yanked Kirk moving to a large doorway that blocked the view of them. The Orions ignored their resting colleague snoring away. Italian mewed looking over toward the security officers. Spock let go of the human’s shoulder. Kirk moved the officer against the wall then placed the flask from the man’s pocket into the Orion’s hand. Kirk showed the image through their bond. Spock cracked a bemused smile toward the elder.

They moved down the opposite corridor, silently.

* * *

The Romulan listened to firing outside of his dark, not-well-kept room. 

He was laid on a metal bed that lacked bed covers. It was small and not that well built. There was not enough head space for someone to prop themselves up after a kiss and hit their head. He looked at his scarred hands. Hands that he wondered to himself how he had got them. His memory wasn’t so good since his previous client. Maybe it had been always been that way. He had a form of memory loss. Long term? Short term? The Romulan was not quite sure of his name. Told that he was _always_ called Romulan. The doors to his quarters opened. He turned lowering his head while seated on the edge of the bed. The doors wooshed open. 

“Tonk’peh,” the elder held his hand giving a unusual sign. 

A cat was beside him, mewing.

“Jolan tru,” He had his hands on his lap. There was something familiar about the elder. 

“Nam-tor S’chn T’gai Spock nash-veh,” Spock said. _I am S’chn T’gai Spock_. He stepped forward.  “Bilire,” the tense demeanor from the Romulan slipped away.   _Peace._  “Rhanne mayri dha bilire.“ _I come in peace._

“Alha hfaei hravher?”  the romulan asked. _Master send you?_

“Hravher alha mnea nnearh oaiit,” Spock crept closer. _You master of your being._

“Rihanha?” the romulan asked. 

“Thaessu,” Spock said. _Vulcan_. “mayri sa’ arhva.” _Come with me_. “Re.” _Free_.

The romulan stared at the elder who held his hand out. 

“Voi?” the romulan asked. _Why._

“Arhem diae hravher,” Spock replied. _I care about you.  
_

The romulan took Spock’s hand. _  
_

_“Usae,”_ Spock said, kneeling out taking a long metal blade from his pocket.  Sorry. “beest  o'ss'uq. “   _Stay still.  
_

Spock felt around the man’s skin until he felt a lump near to the man‘s elbow. He slid the cold, grayed object against the lump forcefully off the man’s forearm. His attention shifted up toward the human sending reassurance loudly over the pain. Spock slapped on a random band-aid then smoothed it out. From the piece of skin that had fallen off was a gray object inside it. Spock lifted the man up to his feet. The phaser firing became intense however Spock’s strong grip tugged him off the metal bed. The romulan’s leg’s moved behind the elder. 

“Ambassador, hope this isn’t going to take long,” the romulan noted the man was in a odd uniform. Simple, but odd, with a star like sign outlined in simple yellow and the interior of it was not yellow. The uniform made his broad shoulders stick out. The human hid behind the wall then shot off a new round. Spock handed the human another round from his pocket replacing the lower half. The human fired back knocking down a security officer to the floor. 

“We may leave now, Admira–” Spock began. 

“GO, GO, GO!”  the shorter man gestured off. 

The leash’s other end was in the Vulcan’s hand.  

“Italian,” Spock said. 

Italian speeded down the corridor.  The shorter man of the group fired back at the firing security officers while shifted. The security officers fell to their feet knocking out cold. The romulan felt the admiral’s hand placed on the center of his back pushing him forward. The group out ran the dwindling party. Kirk looked over, warily. Spock took out another stunner placing it into his occupied hand. Italian mewed rounding the corner. Spock fired, randomly, hitting the officers on random parts of their bodies. Balls of blue energy came out of the stunners.

The small group ran over the security officers bodies making sure not to step on them. Italian guided them into the shuttle craft. Kirk came over to the panel then deactivated the door. Spock’s cold hand let go of the younger man’s hand once placing him down to a seat. Spock came over to the console typing in the disembarking code. Italian seated down next to the romulan. The shuttle craft flew out away from the Orion vessel.  The shorter human took out a small box then opened it up and took out the communicator that he fiddled.  He stepped from the bench up then turned toward the sitting romulan. The ship swayed briefly evading the Orion vessel’s attacks. 

“I am Admiral Kirk,” Kirk said. “My friends call me Jim. .” he noticed the band-aid covered in little rockets on the man’s sleeve. “Hold on, let me fix that scar.” Kirk took out  a small dermal generator from the box then  peeled off the band-aid.  The romulan’s eyes were stuck on the man’s fingers growing tense. Kirk carefully applied the device to the injury. A new patch of skin replaced the small red hole. He put the dermal generator away with a smile. “Isn’t that better?” The translator repeated what Kirk had said. 

“Yes,” the romulan said. 

“Got a name?” Kirk asked. 

“Romulan,” the romulan said. 

Kirk shook his head. 

“No,” Kirk said. “That is a species name,” he gestured toward the man. “Not your name.”  

The ship trembled. 

“I don’t know,” the romulan said.

Kirk nodded.

“You’ll know before we get to Earth,” Kirk said. 

“What is Earth?” the romulan inquired. 

“It’s a planet where people like me come from,” Kirk said. “it’s called terra.” 

The ship trembled once more. 

“Jim, we can use your eyes about now,” Spock said.  He  had turned toward the group. “Evasive menurvers can only do so much.”  

The romulan looked in the direction of the elder. There was something about him that seemed familiar. Yet he couldn’t touch. It was strange and unusual at once. His mind screamed that he should know this individual. Could have been a client for all he knew. Kirk made his way to the seat beside him then  took on the piloting. Italian walked into the romulan’s lap mewing. The romulan’s hand reached back, alarmed, at the four legged creature. Italian turned with his tail wrapped around the side of his body looking up toward the young man. The two husbands defended the shuttle craft. Kirk’s right hand came over toward the console coming over to parts with ease.

“Buckle up!” Kirk ordered.  

“There is a seatbelt alongside you,” Spock said. “Both sides.”

The romulan picked up the long  dark pieces of strap that came together then snapped it together.

“They are firing at us with phasers,” Kirk said. “At least it’s down from torpedoes.”

“They have recognized this is a federation shuttle,” Spock said. 

“Hopefully,” Kirk said. “Or maybe our friend doesn’t make that much  for them.”

“Indeed,” Spock chimed in agreement. “Hold on tight.”

“I am,” the romulan said, holding onto Italian. 

The shuttle shook violently. The gentle gray was replaced by a bright red beeping rapidly. Kirk and Spock were holding onto their stations acting professional and unphased. Spock pressed a series of buttons alongside his station. 

“Shields are likely holding by seventy-five percent,” Spock said. 

“Going soft on us, heh?” Kirk said, raising a brow as the Orion ship fired back. 

“We must get to federation space before the Orion’s catches up,” Spock said. “this requires more power.”

“Put up reserve power,” Kirk said. 

“That will require the last of the phaser ammunition and one of us being away from the station for approximately two point three minutes,” Spock said. Kirk clenched his jaw. “Leaving you defenseless is not logical.”

“You can spare me,” Kirk looked over toward the Vulcan. 

“You are the pilot,” Spock said. 

“You’re the co-pilot,” Kirk said. "I can trust you with your eyes closed to continue evading.”

"How many times have you done this?” Spock said. 

“First time is always the charm,” Kirk said, 

“Not acceptable,” Spock said. Spock glared in his bondmate’s direction. “I lived a occasion where Mr Scott and I were stranded on a planet. Mr Scott was not able to perform the duty himself so I had a hand in it.You were with Doctor McCoy light years away after our previous away mission had ended  in the landing parties separation.”

“There are times where I hate where you are right,” Kirk said. 

Spock bolted his station going over toward the panel then pried it open. He yanked out the two phasers then came to the center. He opened the panel up then began to do what he did best. He emptied the contents of the phasers into the main power system. The shuttle craft powered with life glowing brighly by the inside. Spock gripped onto the metal preventing himself from sliding. Kirk looked over then turned his attention back onto space as a phaser blast struck the shuttle. Kirk slid the few buttons forward. The screen turned to blue with a white circular center at the end. Spock closed the panel turning toward the younger man with a sigh of relief. He put one hand on his knee. 

“We’re in warp,” Kirk said. “We did it.”

Spock nodded, relieved. 

“Your name is _Lyionel_ ,” Spock said, his attention on to the Romulan. He was tempted to add Miller but that would require legally adopting him as a member of the family. 

“Lyionel,” Lyionel repeated, stroking Italian. “Lyionel.”

Kirk smiled, looking over toward their direction, happily.


	50. Chapter 50

It was Kirk who wrapped a long colorful fabric around Lyionel’s forehead then applied tape to the edge. Lyionel was in a new form of attire, a two piece gray outfit that seemed quite large on him. It seemed to have a definite Vulcan style with the way the collar was folded and set. He was in large dark boots that were tight. His hands were laid in his lap.

“There,” Kirk said. “No one is going to pay attention to that.”

Lyionel raised a scarred eyebrow once the translator repeated. 

“Are people like me not accepted?” Lyionel asked. 

“Romulans have a bad reputation in Star Fleet,” Kirk said. “we had a war with them one time. People died in it. A lot of people,” Spock came to Kirk’s side picking up Italian. “Never saw them.”

“Then why am I wearing this scarf thing?” Lyionel asked. 

“Vulcans will easily know you’re not a Vulcan with that forehead,” he twirled his finger at the man’s forehead. “There are some Romulan members who look like Vulcans,” Lyionel’s left ear was pointed unlike his right ear. He could have blended easily had he not been born with the forehead crest. “Comes to a disadvantage when they are spies.”

“I think I understand,” Lyionel said, as Kirk put away the remaining fabric into a small box. 

Kirk stood up then came over to the panel at the back end of the ship. They were being too kind. Lyionel wondered to himself what he did to earn this rescue. Spock had explained to him on the ride to Federation Space that Lyionel was a defector from the Romulan Empire. Explaining away his injuries but unable to explain the scars on his skin. Flashes of memory came when the elder picked up a glass of tea during the talk. Honey. He smelled honey rather than bitter scent from the tea.  It was one of the first memories that had returned. Seeing a flickering flame on a man made candle holder on a desk. Flickering yet the wax melting. Light poured into the shuttle craft. He looked scared at the sudden change of light. Spock closed the communicator.

Spock held his gloved hand out for the young man.

“Digaer,” Spock said. _Home._

The word sounded promising from the elder. 

“Digaer?” Lyionel asked. _Home._ “Re?” _Free_.

“Re,” Spock said. _Free._ “hravher hia eirhiss.” _You not property._

Spock gestured toward the end of the shuttle craft that was open.

“Re,” Lyionel said, taking the elder’s hand overhearing the cat’s mew.  _Free_.

Italian mewed rubbing against the leg of Lyionel. Lyionel stood up to his feet  by the Vuilcan’s side Spock was guided out of the shuttle craft with Lyionel in tow. Lyionel looked around, alarmed, in awe. The hangar of the starbase was massive. A strange individual with unusual ‘v’ shaped ridges above the eyebrows that went to the nose and large pointy ears. Lyionel noticed the individual had highlighted hair. A odd and unusual short being about the size of a child jotting down the cost of the damage on the ship.  The rental didn’t seem to be happy. 

“Sorry about the ride being damaged,” Kirk said,. “Star Fleet will cover for that.”

“Uh huh, and I am going to get taller,” the rental said. “I get told that and they never do.” Kirk smiled back.

“Admiral Miller, at your service,” Kirk said, taking out a small light blue transparent card. 

“Oh my–” the rental said, then looked up with a steaming face. “Oh—i—I—I am sorry.”

“Swipe on the board,” Kirk said. “No apologies needed.”

The rental slid the card onto a slot in the board then was handed back to Kirk. Kirk took the padd then changed the allotment that he was paying. He handed it back to the unusual short Xelayan. The rental almost jumped looking at the federation credits left over from all the deductions. The rental looked up in shock  toward the group.

“TH-T-t-t–t-that’s enough to cover ten new shuttle crafts for my service,” the rental said. “I am in your debt.”

“Someone likes you deserves  better customer service,” Kirk said. He turned toward the three. “let’s go.”

“Enriov kheh-os?” Lyionel said, confused. _Admiral Malter_?

“Tohr fviudh,” Kirk replied. _Long story._

“Maenek Janeway ifvhe rhae hravher, Lyionel,” Spock added. _Doctor Janeway operate on you, Lyionel._ Lyionel grew tense. “rhanne ilhra diivher.“ _I trust them_.

That phrase calmed him as the two older men with their cat guided him toward the doors.

* * *

Lyionel sat in the waiting room alongside Kirk rubbing his hands with a lowered gaze. He was terrified. Kirk registered the familiar tell tale signs. Sweating, focusing on his hands, and thinking about it constantly getting goose bumps under his skin.  Anxiety was prying on the young impressionable man. People gave them odd looks. Spock was speaking with Janeway regarding the patient and was given extensive files regarding physiology should the surgery start dipping in red alert. Kirk looked over toward the young man. 

“Lyionel,” Kirk said.  Lyionel looked over. Then Kirk quietly finished, “Spock emael uhtra.” _Spock not see._

“Ssuaj-ha,” Lyionel said. _Understood_. 

“Daelft,” Kirk said. _Good._ “gaenoh ru crawae  efvi.” _Okay to feel fear._

“Hravher  thaebe Rihanha doaege?” Lyionel asked. _You learn Romulan  Language?”_

Kirk nodded.

”Mosdrihænaen,” Kirk replied. _Extended._

Spock exited the hall then met the two men’s direction. 

“Lyionel,” Spock said. 

Lyionel stood up alongside Kirk then buried his terrified feelings and came after the Vulcan. 

“Hravher chon aihkh iethul?” Lyionel asked. _You here after surgery?_

“Ourhhe ssiun hravher,” Spock said.  _Wait for you._

By the doorway to the operation room stood a red headed woman whose hair was in a bun and her hands linked behind her back. She gestured into the room then he went inside. Lyionel turned his attention away then went in the woman’s direction. Spock stroked Italian, gently, watching Lyionel until his footsteps were away. Kirk came to the side of his husband looking over in concern. 

“I don’t know how the kids are going to react knowing we have a visitor,” Kirk said. “Having to leave and go without getting to know him a little bit?”

“My husband, I have arranged for that during our trip when you were resting,” Spock said. 

“Hm?” Kirk said. 

“Your parents have, ‘miraculously’, received a extra week off,” Spock said. “Da’leek insists that we come over for cookies during that week. He loves the children. And I have heard they enjoy him. ” Kirk smiled back, quite happily.

“I love how I can always count on you,” Kirk said, holding his two fingers out. 

Spock had a smile in return matching the gesture by his side.

“It is my duty as your significant other,” Spock replied.  

Kirk tipped forward lacing a arm on the Vulcan’s left shoulder then planted a kiss onto the Vulcan’s ear that slowly grew a bright shade of green. Spock retained his stoic demeanor. “ _Jim_ ,“ Spock stressed as his free hand clasped with the admiral’s warm hand.  _Not in front of the patients._ Kirk had a bemused snort. Spock fought back the urge to smile. The corners of his mouth went up. Kirk watched the familiar, large and aged smile appear. Italian purred sitting in the corner of Spock’s arm. 

“Whose a cutey Vulcan?” Kirk cooed. “Yes, you are. Whose adorable? You are! No, don’t try to make yourself small—-you’re beautiful. Everyone should see that beautiful smile. How many times have I told you today you’re  beautiful?” 

“Three hundred thi—” Spock began. 

“Verbally, Selek!” Kirk said. “That does not count.”

“Five,” Spock said. “So far.”

Kirk looked over toward a patient, who was knitting, in a chair. 

“Doesn’t he look gorgeous?” Kirk asked. 

The aged woman smiled then nodded. 

“He looks good for his age,” the British sounding aged woman said. 

Kirk turned his attention onto the Ambassador.

“All right, all right, husband,” Kirk said. “Let’s go watch the surgery.”

And off they went leaving the waiting room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Hopefully, there are thirty more chapters until the ending. I SWEAR, I DIDN'T INTEND FOR IT TO BECOME THIS LONG.**


	51. Chapter 51

Lyionel’s eyes opened to a grayed white scenery. He looked over to see two elders were touching their two fingers together. The first was a Romulan, likely, and another a strange being with rounded ears. A part of him wondered what the gesture was. It had to be Vulcan. Vulcans were unknown even to him. He wondered what he did know before … before…Before he landed in this recovery room. He looked down toward his arms to see they were smooth and clear.  Not a sign of a scar. He furrowed his eyebrows then looked up toward the elderly couple at the doorway. Who were they, anyway?  

Where was he? A recovery room, in some location that was unknown. Were they clients trying to snatch him away from his masters? It wasn’t going to the way they wanted. They always found him, He looked around the room. It was nothing like that he had been inside. There were Star Fleet Delta’s everywhere he looked. He was surrounded by cool, soft colors. Not dark and gritty at all. Nothing that he was used to. Kirk noticed the man’s reaction then turned his head toward his husband. Spock nodded. Spock approached the young man then handed him a padd. 

“Hravher faerla,” Spock said. _You read_.

Lyionel looked down at the padd that was fluently written in Romulan, seamlessly. The whole story was laid down for him. Then he looked up in the direction of the Vulcan. It was over. It was over. The heavy feeling laying in his chest fell down to his stomach and was dissolved shortly after.  Lyionel blinked staring at the screen. He looked up toward the well aged elder. 

“Re?”  Lyionel asked.

“Re,” Spock nodded. 

The word hit him. Free. He was free. Spock handed Lyionel a mirror. Lyionel tremblingly held it up to see a clear forehead. Not a sign of what he was running away from. A smile grew on the young man’s face as he looked over toward Spock. It was a warm rounded feeling in his heart that began to spread throughout his chest. Lyionel dropped the mirror bringing the Vulcan into a unexpected hug. Hands wrapped around the man’s waist and tears freely coming down his cheeks. 

“Hann'yyo, hann'yyo, hann'yyo,”  Lyionel repeated, sniffling. _Thank you, thank you, thank you._

Kirk smiled.


	52. Chapter 52

“Patient’s name?“ Janeway asked. 

“Lyionel,” Spock said. 

“Patient’s last name,” Janeway said. 

“T’kheh-os,” Lyionel spoke up. _House of Malter._

Janeway raised an eyebrow. 

“That doesn’t sound like a Vulcan name,” Janeway said

“It’s an off shoot of the word ‘kap-yar’ for grain,” Spock said. 

“If that was his last name then it should have gone first,” Janeway said. 

“Just put him down as Lyionel Miller,” Kirk said. “He wants to learn standard. We  rescued him from a bad colony,” Kirk grew a ashamed expression. “I was observing it. Hard to think it was hidden for hundreds of years.”

“The only words he knows are a different kind of Vulcan,” Spock said, in agreement. “In time, we’ll transition him from not Vulcan but Vulcan to Federation Standard. We cannot overwhelm him.”

“I know the cultural shock is going on him,” Janeway said. “I had a patient once that Star Fleet brought in. Took some time for them to adjust to the starbase,” a sad expression grew on her face. “it’s going to be hard on him.”

“It will,” Kirk agreed. 

“But we shall be there for him,” Spock said. He held his two fingers out for Kirk who returned the gesture, warmly, and assured. 

“I will need his signature,” Janeway said. 

Spock shifted toward Lyionel. 

“Kup du kitau?” Lyionel tilted his head.  _Can you write?_

“Ullho,” Lyionel said. He didn’t understand a word that was coming from the elder. _Not known._

“Ri-fainu,” Spock replied. _Not known_. “Ullho.”  

Lyionel grew an understanding. 

“Oh,” Lyionel said. 

“Aepha: kitau,” Spock said. _Write._

“Kitau,” Lyionel said, holding his hand out. “hnafirh'rau hlmnae.” _Let me try._

The doctor came to the man’s side. She handed him the padd with the stylist. He saw familiar writing on the padd in standard. Below Spock’s Vulcan cursive writing was bold, obvious writing that was large and elegant. His eyebrows briefly knitted together.  Lyionel followed fumblingly wrote his name down then copied word for word the last name. Instead of Lyionel Miller, he wrote his name down as ‘Lyionel Kirk’. Janeway took the padd after it was handed back to her. She looked at it in amusement then changed the name below his signature to match it up. 

“Hann'yyo,” Lyionel said. 

“Hann’yyo: Nemiayo,” Janeway said. 

Lyionel looked up, then he repeated after her. 

“Nemiayo,”  Lyionel said, with a nod. 

Janeway turned in the elder’s direction heading toward them. 

“You have a fast learner, Admiral, Ambassador,” Janeway said. 

Kirk beamed, looking over toward Spock. 

“This seems like a very good sign,” Kirk said. “Husband.”

“Indeed,” Spock agreed. “We’ll take it up from here with his recovery.“

“Good luck,” Janeway said. “You will need it.”

“Live long and prosper,” Spock gave the ta’al.  Janeway returned a smile. 

“Peace and long life,” Janeway said, then she left the room.

“Home needs a call,” Kirk said.

“I shall await,” Spock said.

“Be right back,” Kirk said, taking out his communicator as he walked out. 

“Digaer,” Lyionel said. 

Spock turned toward the young man. The doors closed behind the admiral. 

“Digaer: ha-kel,” Spock said. Lyionel paused, processing the reply, looking down toward the padd that held a starters guide to learning Vulcan.  It was all in Vulcan with translations on the back done in federation standard. He looked up toward the Vulcan as he registered the meaning of the word in his mind. 

“Ha-kel,” Lyionel said. “Ha-kel.” Lyionel felt a sense of belonging. A sense of ‘this is where I am supposed to be’.

The journey itself was home. 

That was the entire mission.

And maybe, just maybe, Spock had helped Lyionel find his home. 

Starting a new life in a new planet to call … _home._


	53. Chapter 53

Lyionel was the first one out of the car.  He looked in awe observing the farm house. The color of the house fading but the paint job remained visible to his eye. There was a tom cat sitting on a window ledge inside the house staring right back at him.  Lyionel heard laughter. Loud, childish laughter. It was a good sound to hear. Eerie silence had been uncomfortable. That’s why on the ride, Spock played classical rock music. 

“Etek nam-tor ka-tel,” Kirk said, coming to the side of Lyionel. _We are home._ Then Kirk realized, they hadn’t started teaching him what etek and nam-tor meant. Teaching Lyionel the Vulcan Language and following along was going to be more difficult than he thought. A wave of comfort came over him from Spock’s side of the bond. 

“Dignair ka-tel,” Lyionel said. _Good home._

“Good,” Kirk said, with a nod. 

“Jim, did you take care of the cabin?” Spock inquired. 

“Oh, yes, I did,” Kirk said, shifting from the younger man. “I planted more trees around it so there will be more logs around for them in the future,” Lyionel looked up toward the top window.  “Good place to spend the winter.”

Kirk looked over toward the man. Kirk was hesitant on touching the young man. He remembered Chapel’s reaction when he touched her. Her reaction was seared into his memory.  So he was hesitant, now, on touching a victim. Touching Lyionel might be a trigger. He yanked his hand back linking it behind his back occupying it. Kirk walked forward in the direction of the door. He slid in the key into the door then slid it open. The door came open. Sam ran into the hall, squealing, leaping into the older man’s arms.  Da’leek was behind him holding blue eyed Jim with two fingers covered in paint. 

“Hello,  Sammy,” Kirk said. “How’s my big brother doing?” he tickled under the child’s arm earning pearls of laughter turning his head back while protesting. The child’s face turned a shade of pink. 

“He’s been doing fine,” Da’Leek said, Kirk stopped tickling. “Been encouraging his brother to walk without using guidance.”

“Aw Sammy,” Kirk said, then he looked over proudly toward the babysitter with a serious demeanor. “Any other problems you didn’t mention?”  Lyionel came in behind him. Lyionel stepped to the side observing the farm house’s interior with curiosity. 

“He painted the couch by accident and just about everything else other than what he is supposed to be painting,” Da’leek explained. Spock came in behind Lyionel  then came to Kirk’s side. “I couldn’t get everything.”

“Mr Da’leek,” Spock said. “we shall take care of it. Did he not go into the room we requested?”

“I made sure of it,” Da’leek said. “Thank you for letting me babysit the children, It was nice for a chance, here, Mr Selek.” Da’leek handed Jim into the Vulcan’s arms. Jim’s hands were reached out toward the Vulcan trying to form words. 

“S–s—s—” Jim started. 

“No, Jim,” Spock said, glaring at the child. “Don’t say it.”

“Sock?” Jim said. Kirk laughed. 

“Yes, Jim, you need new socks,” Spock said.

Da’leek raised an eyebrow then lowered. 

“You’re odd,” Da’leek said, then made his way out of the Kirk farmhouse.

Lyionel looked away from the door then looked at them.

“They’re… Jimmy here is me,” Kirk gestured toward the toddler. “Younger me.” he pointed to himself. 

“Their name is James T Kirk,” Spock said. “T’Kir.” Lyionel nodded.  _House of Kirk._

“Lhhea ravsam, Samuel George Kirk, Junior,” Kirk said. _Big sibling_. “Not big, yet. But he will.”

“Hraen lhhea aou'nel diam,” Lyionel said.   _Your bigger than him._  
  
“Technically,” Spock started. Spock stopped. “Husband, I shall clean him,” Italian appeared from behind Spock meowing loudly. Spock followed the cats loud meowing going up the stairs. Kirk shook his head then looked over toward  Lyionel.   
  
“Khhe ka-tel,” Kirk said, then the two men went through the doorway. _Clean home._

And that’s what they did.


	54. Chapter 54

“Life is full of gifts, and if we do not treat them accordingly with what they deserve, they are taken away,” the slow paced audiobook continued. “Which is what T’Shar, on a holiday that humans deemed Christmas, was someone who didn’t treat objects well…” 

Spock paused the audiobook looking over toward the direction of Lyionel who had came down stairs. 

“Lyionel?” Spock said, sensing his presence.  He turned in the chair in the direction of Lyionel. Spock’s long hair was not braided or up in a roller bun as it normally had been but his hands were on his lap. Beside him rested Italian by his feet. 

“I, uh, um,” Lyionel said. 

“Pa'rshed?” Spock inquired. _Thirsty?_

“Um,” Lyionel said.

“Veoth idh?” Spock inquired. _Children much?_

Lyionel paused then nodded.

“Nash-veh ken-tor,” Spock said.  _I understand,_

Lyionel sighed then sat down into a chair.

“Lhir du?” Lyionel asked.  _Do you?_

Spock nodded. 

“Terrhaha’s,” Spock said. _Terrans._ He gestured toward Lyionel. 

Lyionel came toward the Vulcan. 

“Cutaes,” Spock moved himself to the floor. _Floor._   Italian darted toward the stairs. “Dekons nash-veh.” _helps me._

Lyionel mimicked what the elder was doing on the rug. Lyionel was instructed to gather the feelings of what he was experiencing and to catalogue them. The overwhelming feelings were placed on a flowing river.  Lyionel visibly relaxed. The feelings that had been gathering throughout the day had left him. Lyionel looked over toward the elder.

“Nemiayo,” Lyionel said. 

“I expected you to come down tonight,” Spock said. “You were late.”

Italian mewed sitting on the first step to the staircase. Lyionel helped the elder up to his feet even when he didn’t understand a word. Italian mewed brushing against the Vulcan’s ankle. Spock went up the stairs cooying back at the cat. Italian jumped into the Vulcan’s arm cuddling against his chest. Lyionel grew a smile of his own. He looked over toward the device on the table. Was it a recording device? Lyionel was suspicious. It was a oddly designed padd with a blue disk sticking out at the side. 

“Lyionel,” Spock called. Lyionel looked up seeing the elder gently pet the cat.  “faedhe,” _relax_. “u’ heieu.” _and rest._

Lyionel nodded.

“Good night,” Spock said, then opened the bedroom door and went inside. 

Lyionel looked down toward the odd device. 

_I must learn standard._


	55. Chapter 55

“S—awk!” came a childish shout. 

Kirk stopped reading his novel.

“Spawk!” the shout grew louder. 

Kirk placed the novel onto the counter then propped himself up. Sam and Lyionel were playing blocks together in the center of the living room. Lyionel  seemed to be intrigued by the blocks, most importantly by Sam’s, “Poop,” comment. Lyionel nodded his head. Spock and Kirk put Sam in charge of helping Lyionel learn words. Basic words, at least. 

“Spaaawwwk,” It was loud and insistent. It wasn’t coming from Spock. 

Kirk made his way to the backyard. 

“Spaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaawwwwkkkkk!” How could the child just learn to say ‘p’. He wasn’t a genius. Was he?

Lo’ and behold was Spock tending to the garden carefully ignoring the child was tugging at the Vulcan’s sleeve. Spock gazed up toward his husband with a plea in his eyes and in his side of the bond: _Husband, attend._ Kirk snickered. He came over to the child putting on a pair of gloves. He picked up the child looking over in bemusement. 

“Failing, Ambassador at not telling him your name?”  Kirk asked. 

“He remembered, ashaya,” Spock said. 

“What?” Kirk said, alarmed. 

“I erased clear references and he remembered,” Spock said. The elder Vulcand looked defeated. “Clearly, one of us is mentioning my name verbally to the little one. “

Kirk shrugged. 

“My bad,” Kirk said. “Think you can do that again?”

“He is a toddler,” Spock said. “He may remember.”

“You succeeded the first time around,” Kirk said. 

“Admiral,” Spock said. “I did that.”

“Two more days, baby,” Kirk said, placing a hand on the elder’s shoulder. “And then you can do it. Right before they leave,” he squeezed it. “and change it to Selek.”

Spock looked up toward Kirk, skeptically. 

“Do not forget children have a tendency to continue calling relatives by nicknames,” Spock said. “we have to make sure James does not know of the name before the captain ceremony.”

Kirk paused, thoughtfully, then nodded. 

“It’s harder than it looks,” Kirk said. “I never had a hand in raising myself.”

“I wish there was a manual,” Spock said. 

“We have one thousands of light years away,” Kirk said. 

“Ashaya,” Spock said. “After that final mind meld, it must be the last.”

“There’s a medical problem regarding that?” Kirk asked. Spock nodded. 

“Too many mind melds on a child may warp their developing mind and it may cause memory problems for the rest of their lives,” Spock said. “Studies on Vulcan Children given extensive mind melds have shown it can lead to short term memory loss. It may change the existing personality. That is only if there have been more than two mind melds. Hundreds of mind melds is where the red tape starts. Which is why there is a light mind meld defined as identification meld and does not harm the mind in any form. I only wish that the third meld is _that_.”

Kirk nodded in understanding to his husband’s concern then looked over toward Jim. 

“What is it that you want, Jimmy?” Kirk asked. 

“Uncal,” Jim pat on the elder’s shoulder. “Uncal.”

Spock grew concerned. 

“He pronounced it as uncle,” Spock said. 

“S—baby, you only gave him one mind meld,” Kirk said. 

“Uncal,” Jim said. 

“That is gravely concerning,” Spock said. 

“Uncal,” Jim repeated, clapping his chubby hands together. 

“He is just messing with you,” Kirk said. “Aren’t you, Jimmy?”

“Uncle,” Jim said. 

Kirk smiled looking over toward the elder Vulcan. 

“See?” Kirk said. “kids experiment with words…” he looked over toward the child.  “Until they’re not words anymore.”

“And Lyionel?” Spock inquired. 

“Come on, Sam’s learning new words,” Kirk said. “He is not making words into not-so-much-words.”

Spock raised a right eyebrow. 

“Four year olds are always sneaky,” Spock said. 

“Yes, they are,” Kirk said. “Kirk’s are not sneaky.”

“Then go on and check on Professor Kirk teaching his student words,” Spock said, gesturing toward the house. 

Spock dismissed the admiral then knelt back down toward his garden. Italian was behind him running after a garden snack in the background with Maru on his tail. Kirk huffed turning away making his path into the house. Kirks were not sneaky. If he had a penny every time a Kirk was sneaky, he would have nothing. Nothing at al—

“Poop,” Lyionel said. 

“Poop!” Sam took the block out. 

The large collection of blocks fell to pieces. 

“Nice poop,” Lyionel said. He looked over toward the admiral who looked horrified. “poop?” Lyionel held the block out. 

Kirk placed the young Jim alongside Sam. 

“Block,” Kirk said, holding the block. “Nirsh poop.” 

Lyionel was faced with the image of hands flying making signs he couldn’t understand and a loud concerning shout. He remembered holding a small necklace that was opened holding a small circular white object. It was dimly lit in the room that he was in. It was a shade of gold rather than gray.  He remembered that. He looked up, confused. Sam had fallen over laughing. Jim was clapping his hands. Kirk appeared to be concerned. 

“Nam-tor tok-ti nash-veh?” Kirk asked. _Are you fine?_

Lyionel slowly nodded.

“Vokaya,” Lyionel said. _Memory._


	56. Chapter 56

Playing the game pretend brought out visuals that Lyionel had no idea where it came from.  Perhaps it came from his previous life. His previous identity. He didn’t miss it a part not even knowing who he used to be. He had  a feeling that he never wished to know his original name. Perhaps it came from his imagination. And that it should be left that way under his assumption. A assumption that he liked.

Sam and Lyionel built a make shift tent under the stars. The two elders were taking of Jim after he had puked out at random. Spock was checking the one year old’s temperature. Kirk was getting the child a new shirt. Dinner had been eventful after Maru ran across the table chasing after a squirrel. Italian  silently watching in observation on the window. There was a large lump between the three chairs that were laid on a yellow blanket. Sam had several pillows. 

They were hiding from authorities after making a illegal escape.

Lyionel wasn’t sure if it was his idea or if it was  Sam’s idea.

He wasn’t quite sure how the kid had brought him into the game of pretend.

“Nash-veh nam-tor peasent,” Sam said.  _I are_.

Lyionel looked over, skeptically, toward the four year old.

“Nirsh,” Lyionel said.

“Patam t’ ka-tel,” Sam corrected. _Head of house._

Lyionel nodded in agreement and then the child held his index finger and then his thumb out curling his three fingers against his palm.

“Bam!” Sam shouted. “Du tevik!” _you dead._

Lyionel fell over dramatically on to the bedding with eyes open and a silly expression on his face. Sam laughed with his hands on his stomach falling over. Lyionel looked over toward the child. A pleased smile grew on the child’s face. Most of their pretend games ended differently. Sam brought over a solar powered lantern that was glowing green. Suddenly, Lyionel was jerked onto a bright scenery. He saw figures wearing armor attached to their figures. A seam of green heading in his direction. Lyionel bolted up crawling away from the child feeling panic. Sam looked up in confusion at his friend. Lyionel cowered in pain clenching his right ear. He heard his heart beating, anger, dismay, betrayal—-He froze.

“Vang'radam!”

_TRAITOR!_

The look of anger on the face of someone staring at him, the Vulcan like appearance lacking the forehead ridge, and fury in the eyes. Pain stinging from his eyebrows. He saw the offender falling. The sight of a blade landing to the floor. A Romulan officer came into the hall followed by others. Fleeing. Grabbing a helmet from the corpse that he had made. Pain stinging from his back right into the side of his torso.  Firing back with a disruptor. Picking up a long bar shaped object from a room full  of unusual objects then fleeing.  The word for Federation Fleet popping up in his mind. _Lloannen'galae_? A word of promise and worthy of being a ally.

The rest came: grabbing a another disruptor, fleeing from his former colleagues, and so many feelings.  The he came to the small warbird. He was alone. It was then he hopped into it and started it up taking one last sweep of where he had once lifted off and looked forward to returning. And then he didn’t. He flew off out of the hangar headed in the direction of a planet breezing past a unusual large object in space. The mother bird firing after him. The motherbird fired after him. Making evasive procedures. The ship trembling from the shots that landed on his vessel. A panel exploding against his shoulder among a sea of electricity. Crashing it into the ground. Kicking the door open. Discarding his uniform. Staggering over to a tree trunk. Hearing the sounds of things moving around him. And slouching once coming near it.

“Freeze,” came a familiar voice.

Lyionel looking up to see a shape of a figure above him.

“A native?” Surprise, genuine.

“A new native of this part,” the figure said. “Identify yourself.” Lyion held his free hand up in surrender.

“I prefer to call myself Lyionel, a human word, I think,”  His voice in a language he did not understand. Only able to get the gist that he chose it. Feelings of a new start tainted by anger and feelings of hurt. “I am . .” he fell down to the base of the trunk. “Ah!” He flinched, clenching his shoulder. The figure was eying at him cautiously keeping the phaser rifle at the ready. The top half of the gun had Star Fleet Command symbol alongside the mouth of it. “A disgrace. A waste of the empire’s time.”

“Lyionel,” Sam’s voice jerked him out of the memory that began to end. “Lyionel?”

Lyionel realized he was  outside of the tend, terrified, holding on to a injury that did not exist. He slowly started to relax. The figure was Spock. Spock had taken him in. And ended up, some how, in the hands of the  Romulan Motherbird. And he was blind. Lyionel felt a pang of guilt. Spock wouldn’t be this way had he not gone directly toward the planet. Perhaps if he had taken the large ship from across and used it as a shelter. A ship that could not easily be destroyed at first glance. He remembered his first thoughts about it. He had a choice on how to escape. And somehow, somehow, Lyionel ended up into Orion hands.

Not bad of a choice.

Lyionel looked up toward the child with a smile.

* * *

“Nirsh!”

Spock pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Sam, you must return to your parents,” Spock said.  He linked his hand behind his back holding the little Jim to the side of his arm. Italian’s leash was in his unoccupied hand.

“Lyionel,” Sam gestured toward Llyionel. “tor-ri aitlun nash-veh tor hal-tor!” _I do not want to go!_

Kirk raised his eyebrows.

“Honey, did you teach Sammy how to speak Vulcan?” Kirk asked, bemused.

“No,  I—” Spock stopped. He considered looking over toward Lyionel then back toward the aged Kirk. “He overheard me teaching Lyionel.” Kirk nodded, in understanding, looking toward his little brother. 

“Go to the car,” Kirk said. “I’ll be right behind you.”

“As you wish,” Spock said.

Italian lead the Vulcan down the hall straight into the car. The front of the house was a very mysterious territory for Spock. Let alone, blind. Nothing was ever where it should be. Italian guided Spock on the familiar path. He came to the side of the vehicle where the side door was lingering above him and there was a toddler seat installed into the transport.  The view panned over to Kirk coming to the side of Lyionel. Sam was seated down surrounded by blocks with letters on them fuming and his arms folded.

“Lyionel,” he looked toward the younger man. “Hal-tor du?“

Lyionel was seated in a chair across from the two men

“Nirsh,” Lyionel said. He tapped on the padd.  He twirled his finger on the padd. “horseshit.”

Kirk looked over toward Sam.

“Sam!” Kirk said. “Don’t repeat swear words around  Lyionel!”

“He’s doing horseshit,” Sam said.

“It’s not horseshit,“ Kirk said. He had a look of disbelief on his face.

“Dad calls it that,” Sam said.

“Dad calls it—” Kirk stopped, then rolled an eye. That’s what he called homework. He completely forgot about it. He looked over toward Lyionel. “Oh dear.” he rubbed along his mouth. Lyionel looked up toward the human raising a thinned scarred eyebrow.  Kirk sighed. “Sammy…” He lowered himself down to the child’s level. “Why do you not want to leave?”

“Lyionel’s remembering more,” Sam said.

“Lyionel has a long journey ahead of him,” Kirk said.”What he remembers now is not all of it.”

“I like him,” Sam said. “He is cool. He  is good at sword fighting. And he is funny.” Kirk smiled, looking at the child. “And he is a really good playmate. One who doesn’t like being touched or touching anyone, but he’s a good kind of weird.”

“I understand,” Kirk said. “He will always be your weird playmate.” he placed a hand onto the child’s shoulder. “I will send you updates about Lyionel if you want _and_ some video if that makes you happy.”

Sam nodded then brought the man into a hug.

“Thank you, Uncle Jim!” Sam said.


	57. Chapter 57

Robau came to the Kirk house. There was a orange tabby sitting on the window staring right back at him. He knocked on  the door, three times, then linked his hand behind his back. He was in admiral whites. He linked his hands behind his back patiently waiting for the door to open. The door did open. But it was a much younger Vulcan. _Oh_ , Robau thought, _This has to be Lyionel._ Kirk had talked about the excitement that he was feeling about getting Lyionel. He was very thrilled last time Robau saw him.

“Tonk’peh?” Lyionel asked. 

“Tonk’peh,” Robau  gave the Vulcan salute. He didn’t know what Tonk’peh meant but maybe it was another variation of ‘live long and prosper’. “Du alone?” 

“Alone?” Lyionel repeated, repeating in concern. 

“Yes,” Robau’s said. 

“Poop?” Robau’s face became that of disgust. “No poop.”

“Poop tvai?” Lyionel asked. _Poop mean?_

“I will wait in the car,” Robau said, then started to turn away, 

“A—-a—admiral Miller and Ambassador Sea—lik will beeee back, soon,” Lyionel managed to say. Kirk had instructed him to repeat him after him without telling him why. He was better at saying the phrase than he started out before. “Tvai?” he had no idea what he had just said meant. Richard turned toward the man with a raised eyebrow. 

“You just got here and you are learning standard,” Robau said. He came over toward the seat in front of the house. “I’ll say they are taking really good care of you.” 

“Vokaya,” Lyionel said. 

“Memory,” Robau. 

“I know . . some… words,” Lyionel had deliberate pauses. “tell me … why my memory. . is… fragmented.”

“I can’t tell you that,” Robau said,with a shake of his head. “Miller will do better telling you about it than I.”

“You. . do not. . know?” Lyionel asked.

“I know some parts of your story but not all,” Robau said. “Captain Bole has  a hand in it.”

The word Bole was familiar. Hearing the variations of it as ‘bowl’ sounded strikingly familiar. Small scene grabs had appeared in his mind. His name called out by the ambassador. Captain Bole rang in his mind. A woman with black pupils entering his temporary quarters. A look of professionalism on her face. The blue uniform made her eyes stand out. There was a communicator out on the table between them. The communicator repeating after her in Romulan on what she was speaking. The words coming from her were hard to believe. He was flung out of the memory. He had no choice but to go into Orion Slavery to change his appearance. Robau looked at him in concern and then Lyionel slammed the door shut. 

“That’s weird,” Robau shrugged, then patiently waited. 

And the tabby cat appeared from out of thin air then leaped into his lap.


	58. Chapter 58

The ride back to the Kirk farm house was uneventful. George had been the one who picked the kids up this time around rather than Winona. Italian was laid in Spock’s lap, purring. They were listening to a short audio book. A reading of  ‘The Hobbit’. Kirk drove slower than required. Spock grew amused placing his hand onto the admiral’s hand, lovingly. Lyionel didn’t have forever to wait. Kirk sped the car up to the required speed limit. Kirk parked the car in front of the drive way and looked over to see Robau sitting in the chair in front of the porch with a wave. Kirk looked over toward  Spock who seemed to be disturbed. Italian was hissing in the direction of the vice admiral. Kirk planted a hand on the Vulcan’s shoulder. He got out of the hover-car after unbuckling himself. He smiled with a wave toward the younger admiral. 

“Admiral Robau,” Kirk said. “What brings you here?

“There’s a diplomatic mission from the diplomatic corps,” Robau said. “they don’t want to send Sarek there.”

“Oh?” Kirk said, coming up. “What kind of mission is this?”

“The Catalians have decided to become a democratic society,” Robau said. “willing to drop a few things to be members of the federation.”

A sickening feeling came down the man’s stomach. The Catalians were known members of the federation in his future but with it’s meeting being disturbed. Hundreds of federation representatives had arrived. Commodore Orego had lead the mission alongside Charles Culber,  Captain Bole, and Admiral Archer. Sarek had gone with his wife Amanda with Spock in the care of a babysitter. They were not fatally injured but hurt they were. Charles Culber had nearly died in that incident. Which is what lead to Commodore Orego’s death by being reckless and going against federation regulations. Kirk was contemplating what it meant. There were theories that Captain Bole had been part of the botched mission.  Taking the mission would change a lot of people’s fates one way or another. Spock came to Kirk’s side guided by a hissing Italian. 

“And you want us to go in their place,” Kirk said. “the catalians will be handy advisors in determining what sort of torture is acceptable to get out information.”

“Hopefully,” Robau said. “we won’t need that kind of advisement.”

“When does the meeting take place?” Spock inquired. 

“December 5th,” Robau said. 

“We will have everything taken care of by then,” Kirk said. 

“So you’re actually doing it?” Robau asked, surprised. 

“Yes,” Spock said. “we are.”

“And you have to tell us about all the threats so we can be prepared,” Kirk said. 

“You are from the future,” Robau reminded. 

“That we are,” Spock said. 

“You should know,” Robau said 

“We should,” Kirk said. “but all the files about that is miraculously not there.”

“I’ll send you the threat level during the weekend,” Robau said. “I feel very sorry for you that your retirement is being more in space than on Earth.”

“It’s not bad as you think,” Kirk said. “I love serving in space.”

“He is only miserable being behind a desk, Admiral Robau,” Spock elaborated. 

“Well, good for you,” Robau said. “You ought to tell Lyionel what poop is.” 

Robau stood up letting the red tabby fall down to the floor., He made his way toward the star fleet issued vehicle across from the parked hover car. Spock and Kirk shared a glance. Kirk nodded in agreement. They had to take care of Lyionel. Get him ready for when they were gone in the line of service. Kirk held his two fingers out. A gesture returned by the Vulcan. By the time December rolled around, Lyionel’s standard would be improved. Italian mewed while scratching at the door.


	59. Chapter 59

“I am terrified,” Lyionel said, sitting on the horse.

“October is the month of terror, young man,” Kirk said.

”Is that why you brought me to town yesterday to see children in terrifying costumes?” Lyionel asked. “Startling realistic. Adults dressed in ways that terrifies people?” Lyionel winced as the memory of screaming children that turned into laughter at a man dressed as a clown with two sticks keeping him above the ground. His face painted white with parts of his face painted red, a colorful wig that glowed a shade of blue, and dressed very funny. The sharp small teeth elicited fear from him. He was trembling from the memory. “What is wrong with your civilization? You feed on fear.” 

Kirk had a loud bemused laugh.

”It’s a tradition,” Kirk said. “Trick or treat.”

”Trick or treat?” Lyionel asked.

”You trick someone and get a treat from it,” Kirk said. “it makes you feel warm inside.”

”It only happens on the week of Halloween and April Fools day,” Spock spoke up.

Kirk looked over to see the young man had his arms wrapped around the horses neck leaning against the mane. They were inside the heated barn. Spock had his hands inside his lap. Maru and Italian were watching from the rafter of the barn. Kirk had a bemused snicker. Lyionel was in a thick coat and two pairs of pants. The first pair was leg warmers, the second pair was winter pants. He wore a bright pink coat compared to the elder who was in a blue coat.

“I never rode a . . eeeeeeequine before,” Lyionel said. 

“The only time to be afraid is when you’re behind it or the horse is rising,” Kirk said. 

“Rising?” Lyionel asked. 

“Yes,” Kirk said. 

“Define rising,” Lyionel said. 

“Standing up on the back two legs and try to shake you off,” Kirk said. “that kind. People can either die or get hurt by it.”

“Your planet is a literal death planet,” Lyionel said. 

“It is,” Kirk said. “makes it a hard planet to conquer.” 

“If you are curious,” Spock said. “Halloween is known as the day when the dead walk among us.” Lyionel’s eyes boggled. 

“Oh no,” Lyionel said.

“It is largely celebrated in various cultures. There is even parades held at night for it. .  . A tradition revived after the first contact with Solkar and Cochrane,” Spock elaborated. “It baffles how there is no month to celebrate the dead on Romulus.”

“For good reason,” Lyionel said.

Kirk’s dark horse came to the side of the barn door and opened it. 

“You’re used to the horse enough,” Kirk said, as Lyionel’s head perked up. “time for you have a gallop.” Spock raised a grayed eyebrow, unsure on whether the man was ready for that.  “He’s not going to let go any time soon, Spock.”

Spock’s baffled eyebrow was lowered. 

“Not in your lifetime,” Lyionel said. 

Spock listened to the sound of hooves strike the ground and the sound of the horses fleeing from the barn. One of the cats leaped down from the rafter landing into the elder’s lap with a light thump. Spock felt on the felines forehead to feel the familiar unusual forehead crest. Italian mewed, rubbing along the side of the ambassador’s cheek. Lyionel was getting used to saying words, some of them, such as the name of a horse. The species name, that is. Teaching him standard from Vulcan was going smoothly than anticipated and fast. He heard the sound of the horses go on into the distance. Kirk’s laughter echoed distantly. Spock can feel the human’s joy from within the bond. A wide smile grew on Spock’s face. He stroked Italian’s back. The sound of hooves returned thirty-five minutes later with the distinct sound of Lyionel going, “Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow.”

“Lyionel went around in circles,” Kirk said, closing the barn door behind him. 

“I require help!“ Lyionel said, sliding even further down. 

Spock came speedily toward the side of Lyionel making sure not to touch his skin. He placed his hand on the center of the man’s back then under his leg and slid him out of the saddle. Lyionel was set alongside the horse. Spock patted on the side of the horses neck. He stroked down the horses back softly speaking in a different language that its original owner spoken in toward it. The horse turned its head toward the elder then nudged him. Kirk moved off his horse with ease. 

“Why do you not touch me?” Lyionel asked, as Spock handed pieces of apples to the dark horse. “You avoid touching my hands. Like I have a disease.”

Spock looked over toward the young man then lowered his head. 

“We are cautious about that,” Kirk said. 

“Why?”  Lyionel said. 

“Lyionel…” Kirk said, turning from his horse. 

“Tell me why,” Lyionel said. 

“There is a chance that you might remember _something_ ,” Kirk said, feeding the horse a apple. “We don’t like it a bit.”

“Is it about how I got aboard the USS Shran?” Lyionel asked. 

“No, no, no,” Kirk said.

“Then what does it relate to?” Lyionel asked, looking at them quizzically. 

“It relates to the Orion Slave trade,” Spock said. Lyionel stiffened. So that’s why they had acted that way around him. “there is a chance that you may remember that you did not give consent to be used by a customer.”

“Yes,” Kirk said, by Spock’s side.  “That is it.”

“You two are very protective you do know that,” Lyionel said. 

“We have legally adopted you,” Kirk said. Spock nodded. “We are supposed to be protective,” Spock held his two fingers out for the ozh’esta. A gesture returned by Kirk.  “You are our son.”

A welcoming smile from the admiral seemed like a pale contrasted to a new memory. The phrase echoed back in his mind in Romulan, “Hwiiy mnei   faelirh.” _You are our son._ As though the words were said in the heat of a argument where they both disagreed on _something_. Two parents, one of which with a forehead crest, looking at him without as much of a ounce of parental love stand in front of a gray-yellow house. Both of whom were beginning to grow gray. They were replaced by the two elderly men. 

“I think I understand,” Lyionel said. “if I have trauma that I don’t remember, shouldn’t I start the process of healing over it?” 

“Yes,” Spock said. 

“You’re terrified of how it will be on me,” Lyionel said. 

“Yes,” Kirk said. 

“Don’t be,” Lyionel said. “Leave that to me.”

“When you want us to touch you… tell us,” Spock said. “because by my recollection… Jim and I decided to only do so after you asked the question.”

“We wanted to do it on your terms,” Kirk said. 

“Excuse me, I have sand in my eyes,” Lyionel said, then he walked out of the barn. 

Spock and Kirk shared a glance. 

“That went well,” Spock said, catching Maru. He stroked the side of the cars ear. Maru purred while Italian mewed, loudly, pawing at Spock’s leg.


	60. Chapter 60

The file had been sent to Kirk’s comn terminal. It arrived with a gentle beep. He swiped and turned on the screen. List of vetted threats that had been analyzed by the best. Kirk scanned the page as he sat onto the edge of the bed. Spock was singing to himself from the bathroom. He slid his glasses up. He looked over toward the photograph of Lyionel holding Jim in his arms while Sam was dressed as a wizard. Spock was knitting in the background of the image and Kirk was the one taking it. The cats were in the photograph. If things went sour during the meeting just the way it did in the original timeline, the photograph would be a bitter reminder of what had been.

The threats were credible.

Yet, no one was quite sure who orchestrated the attack. 

“T’hy’la,” Spock said, using the wall as his guide. “There is something on your mind.”

“Yes,” Kirk said, looking up toward Spock. Kirk was shirtless only in a black pair of shorts that read ‘enter’ and ‘exit’ . Compared to Spock who was dressed in nothing. “It’s just that… So many people have something to lose.”

“The Catalians were great assets to the Romulans,” Spock said, coming toward husband.  “there is no evidence in our time that they were furious over the withdrawal of their ally.”

“They are not exactly allies with Cardassia Prime,” Kirk said, as Spock sat by him. The gentle hum of the ship was background noise. The USS Hood was shuttling them toward their next destination. “I can’t see why they are considered a threat.”

“They are a credible threat,” Spock said.

“Explain to me something I don’t know,” Kirk said,.

“After the Enterprise B,  there was a incident,”  Spock began. “This incident lead to the Catalians deciding to forego their ways of extracting information. They stopped co-operating with the first order. I came to learn they had helped them with internal problems who wanted to betray Cardassia Prime for little more of.  . .” Spock could not finish that sentence. He was disturbed.

“Scared they are going to lose a ally so soon,” Kirk said. “That makes sense.” Kirk leaned against Spock’s shoulder feeling a heavy heart.

Spock placed his cold, old hand onto the human’s smaller, warm hand.

“Is the file that concerning?” Spock inquired.

Kirk squeezed Spock’s hand.

“Star Fleet still doesn’t know how the attack began,” Kirk said.

Spock placed his hand under Kirk’s chin turning him in his direction.

“It seems we can eliminate every idea of how it was begun by eliminating the list of suspects,” Spock said. “Some of them are on this vessel.”

“Spock,” Kirk said. “We can’t have their quarters ransacked.”

“I am not suggesting that,” Spock said.

Kirk raised his eyebrows.

“Then what are you suggesting?” Kirk asked.

“You and I know how they do their botching,” Kirk’s eyes  registered the idea. He remembered learning on these species favorite ways of sabotaging a meeting during his time as a captain in Star Fleet. Kirk slowly nodded, beaming back at Spock.

“Yes,” Kirk said. “we do.”

Kirk’s free hand clenched Spock’s green shoulder then planted a kiss on his lips.

“Jim,” Spock said, breaking the kiss off. “I just recalled that I left Italian without a leash in the corridor.”

“Italian!” Kirk called.

The bedroom doors  opened with a _woosh_.

“Meow!” Italian jumped onto the bed.  “Meow.”

“Not lost,” Kirk said.  “Now, where were we?”

“Feeding Italian,” Spock said.

“No, we weren’t,” Kirk said.

“I love Italian and so do you,” Spock said, as the cat came between them then came over toward Kirk’s lap.

“Yes,” Kirk said, fondly. “Yes, I do.”

“Then  I shall get the replicator cat food,” Spock said.  Spock got off the side of the bed then came toward the small section alongside the wall. “Computer, create food edible for a cat.  Breed, Klingon bred feline.” He opened the door  then took out a ready meal for the cat. He placed it beside his leg. Italian leaped down to the floor then nombed on the food. Spock came back to Kirk’s side.  “You were in the middle of feeling around.”

Kirk looked at Spock in bemusement and adoration.

“Computer,” Kirk said, placing his hand onto Spock’s right shoulder. “lights off.”

Kirk began to move the padd toward the counter and dropped it where he thought  the counter was. The padd landed to the floor. By then, Kirk had turned toward Spock then applied his other hand to his left shoulder. Kirk brought Spock into a kiss. A kiss that soared just like every other kiss they shared.  Spock’s hand traveled to the side of Kirk’s rounded face, cupping it, while he purred.  Spock leaned forward gently guiding Kirk down onto the bed on his back. Spock  moved the rest of Kirk’s body onto the bed then continued what he had started.  The starlight reflected the figures of the two making love.

 


	61. Chapter 61

Kirk’s eyes slowly opened.  He felt a cold front pressed against his back. A pair of arms wrapped around his waist occupied by purring. Through the bond, Kirk felt Spock’s content. Joyful, delighted content. Every day since their reunion on the USS Shran. Kirk smiled, trailing his hand toward Spock’s icy cold fingers. Kirk noticed his black shorts were on the side of the bed. The marathon had become heated, as it always did, with all that passion. The events of last night crashed into his mind. Kirk shifted himself over facing Spock.

“Good morning, baby,” Kirk said, with a smile looking back at the aged brown eyes.

“Good morning, T’hy’la,” Spock said, grazing his fingers along the side of Kirk’s left cheek.

“I am not getting up until you get up,”  Kirk said.

“No, how about you?” Spock said.

“I love you more so you should,” Kirk said.

“Hm, perhaps.” Spock said.

“But?” Kirk asked.

“I love you more than you love me,” Spock said.

“Well, I still am not getting up first,” Kirk said.

“We are …” Spock said, then deliberately paused. “in a pickle.”

Kirk shed a tired smile toward his husband.

“I feel lazy,” Kirk said. “Let’s not move.”

“Preferable,” Spock said.

“Let me be the big spoon,” Kirk said.

Spock obeyed turning toward his side. Kirk’s hands remained on Spock’s side. Kirk’s left hand traveled toward Spock’s faced open palm then clenched onto it, squeezing it. Kirk earned a familiar gasp from the man. _Taluhk nash-veh k’du._ I cherish thee. Words came from Spock’s side of the bond bringing a wider smile on the admiral’s face. The bedroom was a acceptable temperature for both Kirk and Spock. The room was warm enough to make him sweat. The room had been programmed to increase temperature by a certain hour.  Spock’s eyes were closed.  Spock felt Kirk’s lips touch his neck _. I love you, so much, so very much. You’re the most beautiful Vulcan  I ever met. You’re gorgeous._ A large, wide smile grew on Spock’s face. The feelings of love traveling between the two was recepticated and old. 

Suddenly, their comn terminal to their personalized bedroom chimed.

Italian then decided to meow loudly.

“I will get that,” Kirk said. Kirk reluctantly slid out of Spock’s grip. Kirk put on his briefs and then his bright pink robe. He sat down onto the chair in front of the comn terminal then activated it. On the screen appeared Lyionel petting Maru in his arms in a way glowing, happily. “Lyionel! Morning there!”

“Good morning, dad,” Lyionel said, warmly.

“Can’t miss us that soon,” Kirk said. Spock got up using the pillow to hide is lower half going over to the machine to create the cats food.  “We left Earth yesterday.”

“I am pretty sure Maru misses his playing partner,” Lyionel said.

“I bet he does,” Kirk said.

“You must be mistaken,” Lyionel said. “Maru is a female.”

“Hm?” Kirk asked. “How do you know that?”

Lyionel held the cat up to display the unusual bulging belly.  Kirk slowly started to laugh leaning into the chair folding his arms. There was only one cat around who could get the cat pregnant. Kirk looked over toward Lyionel nombing down at the bowl of cat food in bemusement.

“I believe you define cats have litters,” Lyionel said, earning the admiral’s attention.

“Uh huh,” he looked concerned. “Anything the matter?"

“I… I think I want to join Star  Fleet,” Lyionel said. Spock’s figure was hidden behind Kirk head as he knelt down and took out the duffle bag. Spock slowly looked over. 

“So soon?” Kirk asked.

“I want to help people,” Lyionel said. “Just like you helped me.”

“Have you decided what track you’re going?” Spock asked, placing his neatly rolled clothes onto the bed. Kirk’s clothes were folded into a square. Easily distinguishable from Spock’s outfits the way they had been handled. Spock zipped up the bag.

“When the academy accepts me, I may,” Lyionel said. “says the reply will come in seven months.”

“2235,” Spock said. “I am sure you shall.”

“Hopefully,” Kirk said. Spock came to the back  of Kirk and placed a cold hand onto his shoulder with his other hand linked behind his back holding onto his neatly folded roll. “In the mean time, you are going to learn reading English. A lot more if you plan on joining Star Fleet.”

“I expect nothing less,” Lyionel said.

Spock let go of the human’s shoulder then made his way toward the bathroom.

“Good,” Kirk said. “Besides. . “ he paused, then added. “you need friends who are your age.”

“I have plenty of friends in town,” Lyionel said.

“Lyionel,” Kirk said. “That is roughly just your therapist and her assistant.”

“Like I said, plenty,” Lyionel said.

“You’re going to make more friends in star fleet,” Kirk said. He paused. “Your name was changed from Kirk to Miller, didn’t it?”

“Yes,” Lyionel said. He shook his head. “I don’t understand your insistence that we fix the ‘grave' error. It’s not like anything alarming.”

“Lyionel, we don’t need more than three Captain Kirk’s out there,” Kirk said. “Most of the Kirk relatives are scientists.”

“Me?” Lyionel said, in disbelief.  “A captain? No way.”

“Captain’s matter more on the bridge and can do more,” Kirk said. “You’re going to make a great name out of yourself, Cadet Miller.”

Spock came out if the bathroom in a matching purple attire that was more or less reminiscent of the current fashion on Vulcan. It was a dress on his figure with frills along his neck. Spock came over then took out the pair of dark boots from under the bed. He slid them forth. He slid his feet into the boots. His hair was up in a scrunchy. Kirk looked over toward the ambassador appearing to be caught off guard. His eyes lingered on Spock.

“I am going to make you proud,” Lyionel said. Kirk slowly turned his attention on Lyionel.

“Son,” Kirk said, as Spock exited the room with Lyionel on a leash. “you make us proud no matter what you do.”

* * *

“Here you go,” the bag was placed onto the table. Spock’s eyes rested on the star fleet decomposable bag. “Why did you need  a pair of rocket boots made in the first place?”

“It is for a good reason,” Spock said, taking the package.

Michelle the Mak’tar raised a arched eyebrow.

“Does the captain know?” Michelle asked. 

“I informed the captain before requesting you to make this,” Spock said. “I would not have asked had it not been approved.”

Michelle nodded.

“Good point, Ambassador Selek,” Michelle said. “Do not abuse its systems.”

“Abusing a prototype is against logic,” Spock said. “I shall test run the systems in the holodeck and make the required adjustments should glitches show up.” he turned away then was lead out of the room by Italian.

Kirk had a tendency to have a freefall, on duty and off duty. The memory of their frequent camping with their dear doctor was a strong reminder of that. There were little files and documentation of what kind of attack had happened. The floor where the approval process happened on the home planet of the Catalians. Spock would be damned for not be prepared. He lost Kirk once, he was not going to lose him again by surprise. Spock came toward the holodeck doors. The doors closed behind Spock. Spock took his boots off then slid out the white boots with a dark gray sole to them. The familiar panels were around it in a retro kind of way. Spock was given a memory of when he completed construction. It served good use. Kirk once told him of a nightmare where he acted as a elevator holding onto him and McCoy while his brother had taken over the Enterprise. Good use, it had.

“Computer, turn on holodeck safety protocol,” Spock said. “prepare a simulation.”

* * *

It was on the third day of the trip to Catalia did Bole get approached by Spock and Kirk. Captain Bole arrived into the mess hall to see eyes were on her. She didn’t lower her gaze. She was the one officer in Star Fleet who had made questionable command decisions. She sensed their mixed feelings about her. Her pitch black pupils swept the room. She came to the machinery. She made her order. In a blue light the synthesizer synthenized her breakfast. She picked it up off the tray then made her way toward a table.  She was temporarily commanding the vessel to Catalia to shuttle off some representatives for a very important meeting. Hundreds of  VIPS.  It was a nightmare. Suddenly, a familiar face sat in front of her cupping his hands together onto the table with a much familiar face beside him.

“Captain Bole,” Spock said. “I recommend you do not come down for the proceedings.”

“Why?” Bole asked.

She sensed nothing from Spock. Controlling his emotions to the point that it didn’t stand out. She couldn’t hear his thoughts just like his husband who she can feel his emotions. Kirk was back inside his white admiral outfit. It was unsettling to feel only anger from Kirk and nothing from Spock. As though they had found something out about her. What it was, Bole had no clue.

“You have a intense dislike over the Catalians,”  Spock informed her. “and you can be framed for anything that slightly goes wrong.”

“I am not the kind of person who can be easily framed,” Lyionel said.  Kirk rubbed his wrist. Spock’s hands were laid on the table placed together.

“I said that myself and look where that got me,” Kirk said. His eyes were like a dagger to her. One look and she was stabbed in the chest by the glare. A piercing, sharp dagger. Spock placed his hand onto the human’s forearm. “You’re biased. You’re better off going back to your old command than staying in orbit.”

Bole raised a eyebrow.

“You really think I am going down there to that planet?”Lyionel said.

“We don’t think,” Kirk said. “we know.”

“You see, we just learned about it through Vice Admiral Robau,” Spock said. “Going down there is a big mistake.”

“You have to make a excuse.” Kirk said. “and leave a paper trail behind it for Star  Fleet to believe.”

“My orders say to escort representatives to Catalia and be part of the landing party,” Bole said. “I cannot go against orders.”

“As your superior, don’t follow through with the last part of the mission,” Kirk said. “That is a order.”

“It is your life or the way you end it,” Spock lied.

“I thought you hate me from what happened to your friend?” Bole asked, raising her thin eyebrow.

“There is one thing we agree on,” Kirk said. “if there is a way we can prevent things and know how it effects the future. Sometimes, we don’t want to change it but it comes into our hands either way. ”

Spock nodded in agreement.

“The future is yours to ruin for yourself after the meeting,” Spock said. “We do not give a damn about what happens afterwards.”

“Besides, compared to me…” Kirk said.  “I had to be part of something like this.”

“Did you ever forgive them?”  Bole asked.

Kirk didn’t answer at first.

“Eventually,” Kirk said, standing up from the table taking his plate.  “Now, we’re going to eat with the security detail for the representatives.” 

Spock picked up his plate with one hand while the other was linked with Kirk’s arm holding onto the leash. Italian was purring loudly guiding the two away.  Bole watched the two elderly men leave her behind. The boiling anger faded away from the admiral as he looked over toward Spock with a smile. Bole still could not read what Spock was feeling.


	62. Chapter 62

“Captain, we have reached Catalia.”

Bole stood up from the chair then slowly approached the view screen. The planet was similar to Earth in notable ways. It was different the way she had always imagined it. Cloaked in darkness where death and betrayal could not be seen in the light. Never ending darkness. Pillars of amber trees sticking out from the ground as a testament of what they had tried to grow. Life growing on the planet in unexpected ways finding oxygen. She saw the  green and blue planet stand out. There was a large ocean encompassing the planet. She thought that finding water was not easy on a planet that had dried soil a lot like a natural disaster had occurred draining away the water. 

Bole stared down upon the planet.

 _“You’re biased.”_ Kirk’s words echoed back in her mind. 

She turned away from the screen. 

“Prepare landing parties,”  Bole headed toward the ready room. “Number one,” she came to a stop in front of the doors then shifted toward the Filipino-like Vulcan female with braided hair. “Good luck.”

Commander T’Pot nodded. 

“As to you, captain,” T’Pot said. 

Easily used a scapegoat, and after all that work getting past her trauma, she wasn’t going to let  Star Fleet tarnish her name. She went through the doors to the ready room. The room she once came to many times as a officer to the captain, personally. It was unfair. She was never supposed to be a captain of such circumstance that effected her future. She, herself, had been chief of security. Only coming in to the room when necessary. She faced the window staring out toward space. She remembered the rescued mission. The captain dying on her watch. A shot straight in the heart after being betrayed. The first officer had died after him, then the third officer, and she was the next on the ladder. The crew of one hundred ninety went down to one hundred forty-three. What was left of her original crewmates. It was unfortunate that the way she escaped was faking her death. And rescuing her crewmates with a off-shore ship,resistance against the Catalian government, via transporter.  The rest of the crew were rescued by the resistance. The medical examiner had been mercy on her leaving behind a long trailing scar on the side of her shoulder blade. She made a trade to help her crew escape. A trade that she carried around every day of her life and had been treated upon returning to federation space. 

Bole felt along the scar with a flinch. 

She briefly closed her eyes shutting off all the feelings aboard the starship. _  
_

_You’re an officer, Sharon._ _Officers can only take so much._ Words that Rachj once told her when held captive in the same prison cell. She stared off into space then made her way over toward the padd onto the table. She wanted to be left alone. Not thrown into a environment with people who visibly reminded her of what happened. Star Fleet wasn’t corrupted. Star Fleet wasn’t corrupted. She sighed, linking her hands behind her back. There were hardly disobedient officers in Star Fleet but captains were different. She didn’t know why, they just were. And she had become one of them. _Denial_ , the word returned. A word that the space pirate had thrown at her more than once in their now strained friendship. She unlinked her hands behind her back to see her prosthetic hands staring back at her. Star Fleet wasn’t home anymore. It wasn’t the same. She had seen the dark side of captaincy. She hung her head down then raised it up with a determined look in her eye. Things had changed in the Catalian political world to seek entrance with the federation.  This change wasn’t going to yank her in. 

She wasn’t going to let her captaincy end in accusations. 

Bole came over toward the desk then changed the page to the resign. 

In fact, seeing those words made her feel like a officer again. 

Bole tendered her resignation.


	63. Chapter 63

T’Pot came as she had been ordered. 

She had arranged for several of the security detail on the representatives in groups. She was personally to head the group that had Commodore Charles Culber,  Commodore Orego, Ambassador Selek, and Admiral Miller. All of whom were high ranking individuals in the ‘fleet. She was highly prepared for this group in general since they were all older men and didn’t have any secrets. By her experience, older men were not as talkative as the younger and didn’t hit on her. She was in her security yellows. Yellow was a warning color and often came as alarming. She was prepared to stay aboard the ship while the proceedings occurred. The captain was required to attend by Star Fleet orders. 

“T’Pot,” the doors closed behind the young woman. Bole seemed generally: _happier_. A smile was on the woman’s face. She was not in uniform but in civilian attire. Her command blue uniform was no where to be seen. “Welcome.” Bole gestured toward a seat.

“Yes, captain?” T’Pot said, coming toward the seat. She stood by it rather than seating herself down .

“You’re the captain now,”  Bole said. 

“Captain?“ T’Pot said, raising a eyebrow.

“I have resigned and forward my resignation to Star Fleet command,” Bole said. 

T’Pot reeled in her emotions. 

“What . . what. . what has—” T’Pot said. 

“You’ve been a commander for over twenty-three years, T’Pot,” Bole said. 

“Captain, I am not gunning  for the chair and never have,” T’Pot said. 

“Life works out funny,” Bole said. “Such as humans calling you by Mrs T’Pot when in Vulcan that is like calling you Mrs the Pot?”

“I have learned to put aside my feelings on the issue,” T’Pot said.

Bole held out a glass for the woman. 

“Take a drink,” Bole said. “You will need it for your captaincy.”

T’Pot slowly sat down taking the glass from the betazoid. 

“It seems now I have to put the last group’s command detail on someone elses mind,” T’Pot said. 

“That is the beauty of captaincy,“ Bole said. “Your staff does the thinking.”

Bole took a sip from her glass then T’Pot did the same. 

* * *

The door chimed. Spock slid his dark purple pants up as Kirk went into the bathroom. Changing the lock systems on the door had been done to have some control over the situation. In the door to the quarters leading into the living room, was a small square object connected with circuits laid on a counter. Spock buttoned his white shirt up. He tied his bowtie. He slid in the panels to the repainted rocket boots that matched his outfit making his way out of the bedroom. Italian guided him toward the doorway. He came to the front of the door. 

“Enter,” the doors opened. “Commander.”

“Captain,” T’Pot corrected.  Spock raised a eyebrow as Kirk came to his side. 

“Congratulations,” Kirk said, with a beaming smile. 

“You will have Commander Lurille escorting your group with Lieutenant Ku-mie,” T’Pot explained. “The commodores will be waiting for you in the transporter room.”

“You are going to do excellent,” Spock said, lowering his eyebrow. “Do not have any doubt.”

“Fear of events that are out of my control is illogical, Ambassador Selek,” T’Pot said.  She turned her attention back on toward the admiral dressed in admiral whites. “I will join the landing party shortly afterwards, I have some arrangements to ensure with Bole.”

Kirk nodded. 

“Do the commodores know?” Kirk asked. 

“Not yet,” T’Pot said. “the crew know and as of now, so do you. Inform them for me.”

“We will,” Kirk said.

“Live long and prosper,” T’Pot said 

“Peace and long life,” Spock returned. T’Pot turned away then made her path down the hall. Spock turned toward the admiral as the doors closed behind the woman. “I am impressed, Admiral Archer is not attending the proceedings this time around.”

“I am a admiral, Mr Spock,” Kirk reminded.

“The only harm that befell Archer was some bruises,” Spock said.

“According to the documentary,” Kirk said. 

Spock raised a eyebrow. 

“Did you advice that he not go?” Spock inquired. 

“Actually,” Kirk said. “Shran might have arranged plans for him. They might be going to Risa. And  I might have nudged Archer to accept since this _is_ going to be uneventful.”

“Uneventful my ass,” Spock said. “It will be eventful.”

“Not if we find all the bombs,” Kirk said. “I found some bomb sniffing K-Nines while you were having fun in the holodeck _without_ me. Am I really not that fun to have in the holodeck anymore?”

“T’hy’la,” Spock said, taking Kirk’s smaller hands. He clenched Kirk’s warmer hands then rubbed his thumb against the man’s palm. “Of course you are still fun to play with in the holodeck. I was …” Spock carefully choose his words. “merely… testing.”

“Oh,” Kirk said. Then his mood changed. “Testing what?”

“Science stuff,” Spock said. “I would have taken you with but I would have been interrupted with the project during our time together. That is no way to spend time with you in the holodeck.” Kirk processed it nodded his head in understanding. 

“Anyway, as I was saying,” Kirk said. “those K-Nines are perfect for the landing party.”

Spock looked down toward the cat then back up toward his husband. 

“And Italian?” Spock inquired.

“Italian gets along with dogs,” Kirk said. 

“But a bomb detecting dog,” Spock said. 

“Trust the cat,” Kirk said, sliding his hand out of Spock’s grasp.   _Just like I trust you_ , Kirk warmly added through their bond. He pat on the side of Spock’s face. “I will walk the dog and you walk Lyionel.” Spock gave a baffled look as the silence sunk in. 

“Lyionel is not a cat,” Spock said

“Slip of the tongue,” Kirk said, zipping up the zipper all the way to his neck. “Anyway,” he lowered his hand from Spock’s face. “Let’s get our boy… after disconnecting our cube.”

Kirk came over toward the panel then took off the additions. He removed the circuits from the grayed square device. He moved it into the bedroom tucking it into their large duffel bag. Kirk returned to the Vulcan’s side then took his arm. They left the quarters and the doors closed behind them. Kirk hummed to himself a familiar song. A familiar opera. Spock contemplated what the familiar opera was in his mind. Perhaps it was a memory that he hadn’t remembered since his return from the dead. Kirk looked over in bemusement watching the expressions the Vulcan was making. Kirk held his two fingers out with a smile. Spock completed the ozh’esta clenching onto Italian’s leash. 

* * *

The transporter room doors opened letting  in a grayed, fat German Shepard leading two men and a cat forward. The black cat guided the vulcan up the small stairs toward the transporter padd in silence. Orego and Charles seemed to be confused at the unusual sight. The two men came to the transporter padd then stepped onto the center. Orego looked off toward Commander Lurille who was speaking with the transporter chief. By Lurille’s side stood Ku’mie, a short individual in yellow uniform, a Feltiousarus. She had a humanoid aesthetic yet a velociraptor like build that was subtle. 

“This is going to be the worst proceedings since my admission to Starfleet,” Orego said. 

“It wasn’t that bad,” Charles said. 

“You had to argue on my behalf to allow for it,” Orego said. “and the captain.”

“Compared to your association with Starfleet,” Charles said. “This involves a _entire_ species joining the United Federation of Planets.”

“That is different,” Orego said. “They have it easier.”

“Prepare for beam down,” Lurille said, turning from the transporter technician. “If you are not married then then you are to separate on to your own spot on the transporter padd.”

Orego and Charles stepped aside.

“Hey, Shannon forgot to ask you in her last message if you ate all the watermelon from the party,” Charles said. “She can’t find it.” Orego snorted in return.

“I ate it all,” Orego said. “Your son was too absorbed in the mycologist than in dessert,” his hands were clasped behind his back. “I got plate after plate while his friend talked about mushrooms. 

“That explains it,” Charles said. 

“When’s the wedding?” Orego asked. 

“They’re not getting married!” Charles said. “That is too soon.”

“Never too soon to make a union recognized by the government,” Orego said. 

“Preparing for beam down,” the transporter chief, John Vickers, announced.  “Stand still for a more comfortable transition.” Vickers slid the bar up onto the transporter padd.  

Kirk was looking off in the direction of Spock when the transporter became in use. The small group was outlined in light blue above their physical bodies similar to a projection against a sheet with lines then color vanished from them within seconds. The same happened to the other two. The screen moved back to display in a blue light the group vanishing all together. In a flash, they were on a transporter padd that seemed longer than the USS Hood’s. The Miller’s stepped off the transporter padd. Orego looked around in curiosity then made his path off. His hands were clasped together with his thumbs pressed against his hands. 

“That’s quite appealing,” Orego said, as Charles stepped off the transporter padd wearing a smile. 

“Underground city,” Charles said, in awe. “I thought the city was above.”

“Oh, it is,” Kirk said, earning a head turn. “Below, this is just Las Vegas. Above is just several towns connected and lots of hotels. Including cul-de-sacs.”

He looked up in awe to see the colorful buildings above them with colors flickering on and off. Holoprojections in the dark sky above. It was quite a sight to see. There were signs in Catalian pointing in different directions. Spock was shown the image by Kirk. Spock raised an eyebrow tilting his head. There were groups of yellow shirts escorting respective representatives with all eyes and senses on the alert. Italian and the dog looked up toward the sky with curious eyes. 

“Quite…” Spock started. “Interesting.”

“Breathtaking.” Kirk agreed, and there they were waiting for their security detail.


	64. Chapter 64

“Don’t worry, Commander Lurille,” Kirk said, standing outside the doorway to the hotel room. “Selek and I have done this before. We can take care of ourselves. The only ones who _do_ need the security are Orego and Commodore Culber.”

“They are not high risked,” Lurille said.

“Your concerns are warranted,” Kirk said. “but who would want to target little old me?”

“You are worth more being held captive alive than dead,” Lurille said. “Captain T’Pot informed me that we are not to be swayed by your kindness.”

Kirk raised an eyebrow at first then lowered it down as a smile grew on his face.

“One moment,” Kirk said, then he entered the hotel room leaving Lurille and Ku’mie alone. 

“Uh, Commander,” Ku’mie said. “I feel like you just challenged the admiral.”

“Challenging a admiral is a bad idea,” Lurille agreed. “I am not challenging him.”

“Did you see the look on his face?” Ku’mie asked. 

“I did,” Lurille said. “He must have realized how much it will be having security on his tail. Orego and Culber have their own security detail consisting of Ensign Sydney and Ensign Raj’eh’is.”

“That makes them lucky,” Ku’mie said. 

“How so?” Lurille asked. 

“Old people are very sneaky,” Ku’mie said, holding up a finger. “You do not want to mess with them.”

“Lieutenant,”  Lurille said. “Relax.” Lurille turned toward Ku’mie. “These proceedings are going to work out. And it will be a funny story we get to talk about with our colleagues.” 

Ku’mie slowly nodded. 

“I hope so,” Ku’mie said. 

The doors opened before them letting out a small group of two animals and two high profiled Starfleet officials. Kirk knelt down rubbing the side of the aged German Shepard. There was a loose blue collar around the elderly dog’s neck with a small golden inscription on the bone shaped metal dangling below the neck: ‘Bones McNab’.  Kirk cooed at Bones. Italian was licking his paw very thoroughly.  Kirk looked up toward the two security officers. 

“Where are the proceedings to be held at again?” Kirk asked.

“The Lockalary tower,” Lurille said. “there is a reception afterwards at the top. Floor forty-nine.”

“Admiral Miller has yet to write his speech for closing out the party,” Spock said, glancing off toward the shorter man. 

“I am working on it,” Kirk said. 

“No, you need to sit down and work on it on your padd,” Spock said. “Not checking for any causes of a sudden attack on the hall using a bomb detecting dog.”

“I want to be useful,” Kirk said.

“T’hy’la, you are always useful to me,” Spock said, warmly. He turned his attention toward the group. “We need some help getting to Lockalary Tower.” Bones barked at Ku’Mie as he reeled himself back with a growl that unnerved the lieutenant. 

 “He doesn’t like dinosaurs,” Kirk said. 

“We can take you to the tower,” Lurille said. “we will take a less occupied passageway to it.”

“Fine by us,” Kirk said. “Lead the way, officers.”

“Lieutenant—” Lurille started. 

“Don’t need to ask,” Ku’Mie said. 

The group organized itself with Lurille in the lead and behind the two was Ku’mie. Kirk seemed to be slightly bemused by it then when he looked over toward Spock, it became a affectionate look. Going into the elevator was another story. Because the two officers now stood side on different sides of the elevator. Spock picked up Lyionel then combed his hand along the felines fur. The black main coon hissed at Ku’Mie. Elevator music played as it slowly went down. Kirk and Spock exchanged a glance. The doors opened behind them silently. Spock and Kirk slowly backed out of the elevator. Then the elevator doors closed before the two elderly men. 

“Jim, do you have the map?” Spock inquired. 

“That I do,” Kirk said, taking out the padd then extended it to become wide. “Let’s make sure there isn’t bombs set.”

And off they went, happily. 

* * *

T’Pot slunked into her chair. 

They had just lost a admiral _and_ a ambassador. 

More like, they had been ditched by admiralty. 

T’Pot rubbed the side of her temples with eyes closed. 

Ambassador Selek was supposed to be a Vulcan, a logical one at that. Retired Ambassador. He was supposed to be the one making  sure the admiral followed what was laid out not breaking the rules. What were they planning? No one knew for that matter. T’Pot straightened herself up in the chair. She was tempted to contact Bole regarding the development. But the betazoid’s words echoed in her mind: “ _Don’t follow my example on command._ ” she reached her hand back from the communicator. 

What had they been planning, anyway?

Time would only tell while Ku’mie and Lurille found them. 

Her first command was a little more than what T’Pot had expected. 

* * *

Walking through a crowded street was no problem. Spock theorized it was the look in Bones eyes that drew a wide path to the building. No one bumped into them for that matter. Italian happily mewed gazing around the scenery. Kirk watched the neon lights flicker on and off. A holographic variation of a Orion dancer sliding on a pole with a mass of red curls cascading on their shoulders. There were a holographic projection of sharks flying in a tornado right above the cinematic theater. The text were not in standard but very different compared to Ancient Vulcan Calligraphy.  Bones stopped at a pot. Kirk stared down at the potted plant then down toward the dog that sat on the floor laying their head onto the paws. Kirk had a look of disbelief in his eyes. Spock wore a expressionless face with one hand inked behind his back.

“No,” Kirk said. 

“If it says the bomb is in there, then it must be in there,”  Spock replied. 

“I am sorry, but who in their right mind would put a bomb in a plant?”  Kirk asked. 

“Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth,” Spock said. Kirk’s eyes went to the pot that had a growing tree from the center. Kirk rubbed his hands together. “Jim,” Spock placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Mr Sulu would do that.”

“Yes,” Kirk said, with a nod. “he would,” he smiled. “Mr Spock, pick up the tree.”

Spock grabbed the tree by the center then lifted it out of the pod. Kirk looked down. And there it was, wrapped in fine fabric, in the center of the pot. Kirk took out a small circular device with a timer on it with the fabric laid underneath it. Kirk pressed on the deactivate setting then placed it into a knapsack. Spock placed the tree back inside the pot then patted it down to make seem undisturbed. Bones then lead the men off down the hall sniffing the floor. The two long time officers passed by several Catalian’s dressed in unique attire. They were like cat individuals who walked on their back legs and seemed to be the height of a average person. Kirk looked over in awe at a panther like individual walking down the hall in a business suit holding a luggage. Kirk turned his head away. He had his fair share of Catalians in his command and it was touching to see the event where they joined the federation. Very fine officers being given a path to Starfleet. 

The pair went down the staircase until they came to the basement of the building. The steps creaked beneath their shoes. A cold chill went down Kirk’s skin. Spock took the human’s hand. They could not see where they were going or where they were for that matter. The light only went down to the stairs. Stairs that were made of wood and were ready to fall apart at any given notice. They felt as though they could fall apart on the two men. Italian mewed following along to Bones. Bones gave a bark and speeded up. The two old men followed after the two animals. The animals slowed down coming to a stop. Spock took out the light emitter from the knapsack. Kirk stared at the collection of pipes. Spiders crawled on the metal covered in vines and webbing. Kirk shoved down his disgust. Spock let go of the human’s hand. Kirk took the light emitter from Spock’s hand. There was a small hole between the pipes and something stood out as a lump. Kirk put on a pair of gloves from within the bag then took out the lump with one hand.  Kirk handed the light emitter to Spock. Spock kept the device aimed in the direction that he was handed it to. Kirk parted the cloth then deactivated the device.

Spock laughed, placing a hand onto his forehead as something had occurred to him. His hand slowly traveled down toward his eyes. Spock wiped a ear off  while placing a hand onto Kirk’s shoulder. Kirk looked over in concern, bewilderment. Spock wiped off another tear then faced Kirk. The light emitter showed a sad smile on his face. As though he had remembered something from the past.

“What is so funny?” Kirk asked. 

“It is best I show you,” Spock said, handing the light emitter to  Kirk. 

“Show me,” Kirk said. 

Spock placed a hand on the side of Kirk’s face and there he began the age old chant, “My mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts…”

 _“Some sufferin’ is good for the soul,” McCoy’s familiar, southern voice came to._ A smile grew on Kirk’s face _. “Just not this kind of sufferin’.”  There was no reply from the Vulcan. The pause became alarming. “Are y’all havin’ a sleep over in there or somethin’?” the voice sounded very static as though it was being said over a communicator.  
_

_“I am meditating,” Spock replied.  
_

_“Uh huh, and you’re not frustrated,”  McCoy said.  
_

_“Frustration is a emotion,” Spock replied.  
_

_“It’s like bein’ blind trying to find a hole in this and—oh my what did I just touch? I think I touched a spider web! I do not get paid enough for this! This is gross!” Spock’s figure was laid against the bumpy wall. Kirk, young, was laid against him unconscious. “This is gross,” Part of Spock’s uniform had been torn to cover the wound. “I can’t believe the transporter can’t reach inside of that thin’ and just get y’all out of there.”_

_“I am as ‘befuddled’ as you are,” came the calm reply.  
_

_“Spock, I wouldn’t wish it on ya,” McCoy said. “Thankfully, I am glad ya in it.”  
_

_“You do not need to,” Spock replied.  
_

_There was a eerie, long drawn silence.  
_

_“Mr Spock . .  could I  … could I. .  .” McCoy said, slowly.  “be touchin’ your hair by any chance?”  
_

_“Negative,” Spock said.  
_

_“My god, what am I touchin’?” McCoy’s voice grew hysterical. “DID I JUST TOUCH A RA—”_

Kirk and Spock tearfully smiled at their old friend with their foreheads touching.


	65. Chapter 65

“Admiral Miller, Ambassador Selek,” Lurille said, once the two high ranking officials came toward their doorway. “Where have you been? We have been looking for you for hou–”

Spock tossed a heavy bag into the commander’s hands.

“Getting rid of all the threats for the proceedings,” Kirk finished. “You will find a lot of life threatening devices in there.”

 _“Five_ hundred thirty-four life threatening devices,” Spock corrected.

Kirk glared over toward the Vulcan.

Lurille looked up to notice that they were now two dirty old men. Kirk’s hands were covered in dirt. The dirt on the side of his face made the distinct shape of large hands with long fingers.  Their noises looked as though they had smudged against something. Spock’s forehead was covered in dark dirt, and his hands were coated in a light shade of brown. Spock had changed before they went out into his traveling outfit consisting of a long brown tunic with one half shorter than the other half almost seemingly velcrowing against the other half to stick on rather than a fashion statement. Which was partially unvelcrowed. Spock’s braided hair was now loose. Lurille handed the bag to Ku’mie. Ku’mie looked into the bag to see the contents. Kirk handed Bones leash into Lurille’s hand while Italian guided Spock into the hotel room.

“I have a promised marathon to do with my partner after a nice shower,” Kirk said, turning away from the two security officers headed right toward the door. “We won’t do the same trick twice on you.”

Kirk entered the hotel room. Spock was sitting down on a chair sliding the long outfit off. His rocket boots were set alongside his feet. His grayed head was inside the tunic. Kirk’s face began to change looking down upon Spock as though it were making him melt by the inside. The door closed behind the admiral leaving the speechless security officers standing in front of the door. Lurille slowly came to her senses then looked over toward the lieutenant. The two officers quickly went down the hall passing by the doorway. Two minutes later did a different set of security officers replace them.

* * *

Orego was inside a in-door pool smoking a cigar. There were various Catalian species resembling felines hanging around. Some were licking their paws while resting on a chair. Charles came into the room then slipped off his robe only clad in a black pair of briefs and white flashy crocs. Orego paused, raising his eyebrowless ridges. Charles placed his bright blue robe onto a chair that had the star fleet insignia imprinted on it. Charles walked into the heated pool then sat down into it. By Orego’s side rested a Tellarite representative, a betazoid, and a Tulian with pieces of cybernetic technology dotting alongside the face.

“What brings the occasion for a cigar, Frank,” Charles said.

”Surely you know what it is for,” Orego said.

”Don’t call me Shirley,” Charles said. A smile grew on the Cardassian’s face.

”Oh Charles,” Orego said, with a laugh. Charles regarded his friend, fondly, then had a laugh himself. “Never change.”

Orego grew bemused as he slid the cigar out of his mouth.

“Say,” Charles said, as his laughter died down. “Why does Starfleet want you, of all people, to attend this?”

”Frankly, they just want me away from a meeting where they are talking about risky missions,” Orego said. “Archer is still mad. I think he is more mad that I risked Shran’s life to get a _map_.”

”I thought he was over it,” Charles said.

“Humans,” Orego said. “Said he was thinking of getting me pushed into this missions because ‘Diplomacy will be a good asset in the future should Cardassia Prime join the Federation and require someone who will get along with the Cardassian representative’,” he laughed mockingly. “I am not the diplomatic kind.”

”You were never diplomatic,” Charles said. “I think it’s time I retired from Starfleet.”

”To where?” Orego asked.

”I don’t know, yet,” Charles said.

“You say you want to retire all the time and you don’t know where you want to spend it this time,” Orego said. “something going on in the family?” Charles looked over with his arms leaned on the supporting wall behind him. He looked away from the Cardassian.

“No,” Charles said. “I rarely get to go out in the line duty of duty as it is.”

”Commodores do go out, a lot,” Orego said.

”I don’t,” Charles said.

Orego grew a concerned look.

“You are bored of Starfleet,” Orego said.

“That’s right,” Charles said. “After my previous command .  . .”

Orego leaned off the wall coming close to Charles,

“Charles,” Orego said, placing a hand onto the man’s shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault… Look, you are only on desk duty because you haven’t been cleared for the bridge. All those unfinished evales.”

”I did them,”  Charles said.

“Oh,” Orego said, as it dawned on him. “your command ended terribly.”

“It would not had I–” Charles started.

”Don’t you finish that Charles Daniel Culber The Third,” Orego said, pointing his index finger at him. “There are hundreds of officers who were part of what happened.”

The memory of the unusual bright blue being appearing in space. A anomaly, no less, a beetle like space ship that intervened during a skirmish and had made all ships stop firing at each other. The silence on the bridge was unsettling. Like a storm ready to happen. The ship, the beetle, whatever it was, had been scanned and analyzed. He thought as a explorer not as a cautious admiral. Going in with his personally chosen team. The attack upon the vessel afterwards. The insects rampaging through the ship. Being held captive by the ship, itself, watching his landing party be killed or injured. The words coming from Orego became unheardable.

It was a miracle that a rescue party had been sent and the bright blue beetle vanishing seconds in space after the last minute beam out. He remembered seeing what the insects were doing. The high pitch screech rung in his ears. Charles remembered the tendrils hooked into his head—-he remembered all the pain and horror. They were all healed. Even when they were not there, they were. He remembered everything about the species and had been the one to write a very lengthy report regarding what happened.  Charles looked up toward the Cardassian who looked on with concern.

Needless to say, bugs terrified him more than they should since then.

“You’re at the bottom of the list,” the human looked up toward Orego. “Maybe, just maybe, for the sake of your mental health you should step away from Starfleet Command for awhile.”

”It has been a awhile since I went to Galvakorus,” Charles said.

”Ten years, and forty days,” Orego said. “I am supposed to be the one in this friendship displeased with Star Fleet. Not you,” he looked over noticing the other representatives had left him.  “have a cigar.” he put the cigar into the darker man’s mouth. “I got more where that came from.”

“Where do you hide them?” Charles asked, in disbelief.

“No where you like to know, pal,” Orego said, putting his cigar away. “Come on, enjoy the view,” Orego moved Charles against the barrier to the pool. “and why don’t you pick up meditating?”

”I tried that once,” Charles said. “I ended up being abducted.”

”In a shuttle craft,” Orego said. “Vulcans say it works and it worked on you.”

”No, not really,” Charles said. “It just made my life miserable.”

”That’s because you were in space,” Orego said. “You’re on a planet. You’re safe, and you are surrounded by people who are willing to go after you and get you back should someone have beamed you out. I think your new colleague Admiral Miller would lead that mission.”

“You wouldn’t go?” Charles asked.

”I am grounded from risky missions,” Orego said. “Call Shannon.”

”I will,” Charles said, with a nod. Orego grew a wide grin.

“Good,” Orego said. “I am going to get drunk  and crash someones night,” he slowly paddled away from the human. “stay and finish that cigar!”

"I will, cheap shot!” Charles called back.  Orego returned the middle finger.

* * *

There was something missing in Spock and Kirk’s lives. Kirk had a slight cough. Spock dreaded the cough. In Earth culture, there was various reasons for a cough and in the media that lead to a incurable disease. Incurable diseases nowadays got their asses kicked by medical science. Kirk was acting as the big spoon. Kirk’s warmer arms were laid on Spock’s waist. It was a random cough. Coughs can easily be taken care of. Spock could not see, so taking care of a sick human would be a challenge. The illness would come and go. Lyionel would be helpful should he be willing to help for that occasion. Spock believed that Lyionel would.  Kirk trailed his fingers down Spock’s shoulder blades through the fine graying long hair.

Then Kirk began to hiccup. Kirk had obviously drank something too fast, smacked his chest, and ended up hiccuping. There was no sense of alarm from the admiral. Spock was relaxed as he was. The admission was going to start in a little over two hours. Kirk’s white admiral uniform laid on a chair alongside Spock’s folded purple vulcanian attire. Feeling Kirk’s hands on his was even more satisfying than the climax of their endeavors together.  A reminder of what he had achieved in a little over two years. A smile spread on the Vulcan’s face. Once a sad, lonely Ambassador now a happy, occupied Ambassador. Something was missing despite all that. Sometimes, Spock wished that he had a doctor around when it came to Lyionel and how to best deal with him. McCoy was skilled in psychology. He knew it better than they did. Then again, McCoy would have made Spock tell Kirk right off the bat about the slight swelling in his legs and made him get a chest scan by Talron. 

“Ashaya,” Spock said, shifting toward the admiral.

“Yes?” Kirk asked, with a hiccup.

“Should we get interrupted for our return to Earth …” Spock said. “We may be required to spend Hanukkah here.”

“I got you covered, baby,” Kirk said, hiccuping in-between. “I brought along a Menorah for the ride home. It’s in the duffel bag side pocket.”

Spock pressed himself up against the frame of the bed and Kirk followed.

“Computer, access federation database under the account of Selek Miller, play Home Alone 3, circa 1997,” Spock listed. Kirk looked over to see the screen began to brighten up. The opening of the movie began to play.  20th century fox appeared on the screen that was all too familiar. Spock’s hand slid around Kirk’s waist.  “It is logical to play your favorite Christmas movie in the time of December.”

Kirk hiccupped, holding his two fingers out.

“It certainly is,” Kirk agreed.

Spock completed the ozh’esta while Kirk’s other hand rested on the Vulcan’s waist. Kirk lowered his hand then his eyes fixated on the screen listening to the opening theme. He wrapped his arm around Spock’s long, cold arm. Spock had watched the movie every year with his husband. His memory allowed him to visualize what was going on inside his mind. All the while his husband hiccupped. The hiccups slowly died down as the movie progressed. It was certainly a good evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MANDATORY REST STOP. PLEASE EAT, DRINK, OR USE THE BATHROOM BEFORE CONTINUING ONWARDS IF YOU ARE READING THIS AS A COMPLETED WORK. PLEASE. AND THANK YOU.


	66. Chapter 66

The proceedings went smoothly. Just as how Spock had thought it would.  Though it was a little uneasy, that on December 5th, nothing tragic happened so far at the least. Kirk had drafted and edited a speech remarkably alike the one Archer had given after the proceedings in the middle of the after-party. Hope for the future would be kind to Catalia and its relationship with the federation. No one would know that Kirk plagiarized except for his husband. There were fifteen representatives. Spock counted as number fifteen, representing Vulcan. Kirk observed the number. In the next twenty to thirty years, there would be thirty-two members. There were more representatives sent from each planet to act as a decoy for _the_ Ambassadors. Delegates, mainly. At least what’s the Catalian’s were made to believe. So it seemed there were more than ninety members. Catalia was a shady planet with rumors of threats just waiting to appear. 

They were in a section of the building defined as ‘Locker’s hall’ where the party was being held. The representative of Catalia was dressed with style and seemed to be genuinely happy for the occasion. Kirk saw the panther smile widely, the glint of glee in her eyes, and the dark dress that sparkled trailing behind her. Catalia was, as of the party, the sixteenth member of the federation. Even while blind, Spock had freely engaged on the discussion on the pros and cons of having Catalia as a member among other things that he would not like to discuss with his husband. Kirk sipped a drink from the golden themed goblet. The panel glass from across was wide and large similar to one seen in a place of worship that had unique images on them. The light from the Las Vegas like scenery poured on in. Orego was speaking to a Violacean delegate and a Loktaran delegate. There were tables full of food. Kirk was being indulgent for himself. He had a delicate plate in his hands. He looked over to see the panther, Lurio, standing near the paneling. She had a nice fluffy scarf around her neck that trailed down her shoulder. Kirk picked potato with gravy, several pieces of meat, and a very juicy burger. Kirk placed his plate alongside Spock’s. Spock had finished his vegetarian plate. His long, green fingers were grazing Italian’s dark fur.

Durche, the Loktaran, stared at Italian with awe.

“Do all felines have forehead ridges?” Durche asked. 

“Not all,” Spock said. 

“Where can I find one?“ Durche asked. 

“I am unaware of where to find them,” Spock said. “Although, we do have a set of kittens to arrive sometime after or before our return.” the Loktaran’s brown eyes brightened. 

“I would love to take one,” Durche said, then took a sip from a goblet. 

“Miss Durche,” Spock said. “Might I warn you that you have to take the kitten with you. You can not leave it behind.”

“Oh, aren’t cats supposed to stay?” Durche asked. 

“This specific cat breed is unique,” Spock explained, as Durche tilted her head. Her blonde, large hair almost bobbed in a way brightly against her dark skin. “Unlike most cats, if it is not around its owner then it will tear everything you own to pieces. The kitten cannot be trusted. You cannot, should not, never should attempt to change the cat the way it is. It is part cat and part Klingo—”

“Wait it’s part _Klingon_?” Durche repeated in a questioningly manner. 

“Yes,” Spock said. 

“I will take it anyway!” Durche said. Durche rubbed her hands together. “My trophy cat.”

Spock raised his eyebrows. 

“Really, Miss Durche?” Spock inquired.

“Really,” Durche said. 

 “This breed is a bred as a loyal friend and warrior,” Spock explained. “Should you be harmed in anyway, your kitten may over react.” Spock closed his eyes at the memory of Italian attacking Kirk for swatting at Spock’s hand.  Over a collection of cookies that were being saved for a visit to the elderly community center. “Attack to be precise,” Durche nodded. “but it will become not as cute as it grows.”

Durche rubbed her chin. 

“Your warning is noted,” Durche said. 

“If you are really prepared for this responsibility,” Spock began, sliding forth a glowing light blue object. “after the party, please contact this email.” 

Durche picked it up.

Spock slowly stood up from the table picking up his plate. Kirk placed his plate alongside Spock’s seat. Spock passed by Kirk heading in the direction of the dirty dishes that laid on a separate table. Kirk watched his husband walk away. Kirk looked down toward the light weight boots that Spock was making him wear. Spock had reasoned earlier about the logic behind it, “ _You are more likely to fall during this party and I will be eating or putting my plate away or talking to a diplomat while you are speaking with other members or Lurio for that matter. You are going to see these individuals again should the federation have another scenario like this_. _It is only logical that we be apart. You are more of a social creature than I am, Jim_.” Spock was right, as usual. Spock was rarely ever wrong when it came to Kirk. Kirk’s eyes were torn off the ambassador’s figure then made his way over toward Lurio. The boots contracted nicely with his color scheme that sparkled. His formal admiral uniform was covered in sparkling glitter. It got everywhere. 

Kirk made his way toward Lurio. 

“How is the evening going, Miss Lurio?” Kirk said, coming to the woman’s side. 

“Perfect,” Lurio said. “So many species,” she looked over toward the man. “the federation has a good taste in partnership.”

“It does,” Kirk agreed. “How does it feel to be making history in Star Fleet?”

“I don’t know,” Lurio said. “I feel troubled and happy…  I am happy beyond anything.”

“You’re troubled because you are afraid that we might become like your species in instituting torture when it comes to war.” there was a long pause as she lowered her head. Her bright yellow eyes gazed down toward the rug as her fingers clasped around the silver goblet. She looked up toward the glass.

“Yes,” Lurio said. 

“The Geneva Conventions prevent us from doing that,” Kirk said.  

“Geneva Conventions?” Lurio said. 

“If we do that, they are called war crimes,” Kirk said. “and they are, outside of war, defined as crimes against humanity.”

A grim memory came to Kirk’s mind. He remembered reading the report of the USS Discovery. Turning their chief engineer, a astromycologist, into a plug in. All the reports that he had read that had been covered up regarding crimes against humanity in Starfleet during the war. He didn’t like to think of it. Lurio slowly nodded in understanding. She turned her gaze toward Kirk. She had a look of understanding. 

“If they are prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law then  I feel safe with Catalia in the federation,” Lurio said. 

“You are always safe,” Kirk said. “Federation member or Starfleet officer, we never leave one of our own behind.”

Suddenly the building tipped forward and the next Kirk knew, he was falling. As was Lurio. He heard a loud sound behind him. Spock would have flown in after him and caught the admiral into his arms then Kirk would have kissed him on the cheek with one hand on the Vulcan’s shoulder. A steady green blush forming on the Vulcan’s face. Italian mewing in the Vulcan’s arms. But that wasn’t what happened. Not at all. 

Instead, Kirk kicked on the boots then caught Lurio into his arms. He saw grayed smoke drifting out of the top. And one half of the upper building were falling right toward him. Lurio closed her eyes with her face pressed against his uniform curling her tail around her. A feeling of complete horror sunk down into Kirk’s mind. Spock had shielded the admiral, just as he had done throughout the entire proceedings, in fear that tragedy would strike.  Kirk flew up toward the gaping hole in the hall flying through the unoccupied building. It was late on Catalia and no one was inside the Lockalary Tower. Except—-Kirk safely made into the gaping hole in Locker’s tower that was barely hanging on. Lurio opened her eyes then leaped out of his arms. It seemed that the collapsed ceiling had stopped most of the party attenders from falling out. 

“Spock!” 

There was a weak, heartbreaking meow. 

“Spock!” Kirk speeded up toward the source of Italians voice. 

* * *

Spock heard nothing, left in total darkness. 

Spock knew there was something heavy laid against him.

Partially conscious, Spock felt around for Durche. 

He felt the Loktaran’s warm hand. Spock relaxed. It had a small cavern—and he could not feel his legs. He had complete mobile control over his hands. He felt around to feel the material of debris around him. The uneaten food beside him. His fingers were sore and bruised. Pain was radiating from them. His ears stung  like they had been pierced by _something_. The side of his head was aching.  A explosion, surely, Spock would have heard a high pitch sound. A sound that he had heard during his Starfleet service. Spock struggled to stay awake. The personal, tempting healing fog was in the back of his mind. Spock was going to stay awake until he heard Kirk’s voice. If he had ended up paralyzed and deaf not only blind that would be ridiculous given that Spock had suffered enough by Kirk’s standards. It was a deserved crippling blow. Paying for the loss of countless Romulans. That was a fitting and final punishment by Spock’s standards.

“T’hy’la …”

It the occurred to Spock that he was pinned on the collapsed table. 

“T’hy’la …”

His back was stinging in pain. 

“T’hy’la …”

So much classified issues regarding him.

“T’hy’la …”

It was amusing. A walking classified patient. Spock’s fingers curled back as he winced in pain. Spock felt a hand placed on the top of his head. Spock’s head was propped to the side of the table. They had missed something. They missed a device that had failed to do as it had been made. The back of his head was no longer behind pinned. Spock didn’t know if he was speaking or not. A hand cupping the side of his face while another clenching onto his shoulder. The familiar warm presence made him feel safe and loved. 

“T’hy’la, T’hy’la, T’hy’la!” his mental barrier fell. 

Kirk was still alive thanks to the rocket boots. 

 _I’m here, baby._   Kirk’s well aged voice echoed through their bond. 

The bond with Italian, however, was gone. His pet bond, gone, just like that. He had lost a cherished guide. Extinguished like a flickering flame. Kirk’s voice was unsteady as he verbally repeated, “I am here, Spock, I am here, I am here.” Words that would have comforted Spock. Spock’s eyes slowly opened toward the admiral. A smile grew on the admiral’s face to see the aged brown eyes looking up toward him. Spock held his two fingers out for the man. Kirk took his hand off the side of the Vulcan’s face then completed the ozh’esta.

“Taluhk nash-veh du weht, ri tor yen-tor ik, adun.” _I cherish you more, don’t you forget that, husband._

Spock’s eyes closed as he fell into his healing trance and his hand fell. 

Charles came to the admiral’s side and placed a hand onto Kirk’s shoulder. 

Kirk radiated pure, untainted anger making the man taking his hand back. 

Lurio watched Charles shout into the communicator as Kirk sat there in a numb manner.


	67. Chapter 67

Kirk waited resting in a chair with trembling hands. Doctor Hall informed him that they had the best Vulcan professional in surgery with Spock. The Vulcan professional had come along just in case of a bad case scenario like it happened. On his once bright white and black formal admiral wear was the shape of Spock’s head in faint green blood. Kirk’s fingers were set together. He was angry. He was upset. He was a number of things. This was never supposed to happen in Catalia’s joining of the federation. The surviving representatives were taken to their quarters, being treated for their injuries, or talking to a counselor regarding what happened. The look on Durches face when she looked over toward the man had fallen. They could not have missed anything for that matter. 

They had gotten all the devices. He didn’t know how happened. How it happened. Kirk was in his black service boots with his head lowered. Kirk was having the cat cloned, quickly, in a science lab on the USS Hood with technology shared by the Catalians. A black kitten with the forehead ridge. It wouldn’t be the same without Italian in the Kirk house. Oddly quiet. Kirk would admit seeing Italian in Spock’s lap while listening to a novel was a comforting, yet soothing sight. The loud purring coming from the cat.  It was a domestic sight that Kirk, himself, had decided was far too precious to let go. It was mainly for Spock’s comfort and his own. The cat, in every way, would be Italian. Nothing different about it. A officer in security yellow approached the man with a black insignia on the chest. 

“I am Officer Reeds,” Reeds said. 

Kirk stood up now in full height towering the much shorter man giving a death glare.

“Get. Out.” Kirk said. “Now.”

“We would like—” Reeds said. 

“Don’t!” Kirk raised his voice, then added with a deliberate pause between each  word. “Don’t… you  .  say … that.”  He lowered his  trembling index finger.  Clear, concise anger was on his brightly red face with emotional hazel eyes. Kirk shook his head, half ashamed, half angered, at who he was seeing. “Out.”

“My superior–” Reeds started to say.

“I am your superior officer,” Kirk said. 

“Thinks–” Reeds tried to finish.

“They should retire and go off to a penal colony,” Kirk said. 

“You don’t want to go after the person who did this?” Reeds asked.

“I want no part in what you do. I am . .  _emotionally_ compromised,” his eyes acted as daggers toward Reeds. “I can’t be part of any mission related to Starfleet at this moment.” He made his way from the door. Then shifted toward the officer. “Is that clear, _Officer_ Reeds.”

“Crystal clear,” Reeds said.

“Good,” Kirk said, walking away. “share that with your crewmates.”

* * *

“Uhhhh, I think one of us made a mistake here,” Ensign Washington said.

The small science group looked over to see a bright white flailing small wet creature waving its arms in the air covered in a thin film. Lieutenant Brooke, with Andorian qualities yet a Tellarite like nose, brought over a female cat that began to do the cleaning. The kitten mewed, high pitch, loudly. 

“The cat is supposed to be black,” Cadet Mart said. 

“Someone went wrong,” Washington said, as the small group looked in the direction of Telleriate Lieutenant Hancho.

“I don’t know what your dumb faces are looking at but I put in the gene for black,” Honcho said. 

“Someone removed it,” Mart said. 

“I didn’t!” Hancho said. 

“I am pretty sure the admiral will like it,” came the voice of the head science officer. Mart, Hancho, Mart, and Brooke. The head science officer came to the group to see mewing kitten. They looked over in the direction of the head officer sheepishly. The head science officer looked over toward the mother cat then toward the kitten. “I am not sure what you are trying to do but making a kitten for your indulgence is not a reason why we have this equipment out.”

“We tried,” Hancho said. “It just…”

“Morphed on its own,” Brooke said. 

“As we told you,” Washington said. “We have to read up on cat geneology and essays regarding cat DNA. If we’re cloning a genetically engineered cat then we have to do it right.”

 The head science officer looked over toward the kitten now sucking on a nipple

“Klingons do mature quickly,” the head science officer said. 

“Yes,” Mart said. “We don’t know how quickly this will make the kitten mature. Never been studied or observed.”

“Give it another go,” the head science officer said. “use the color orange.”

“Orange has nothing in common with the color black,” Honcho said. 

“Try,” the head science officer said. 

“And if you make another cat that is not the color that we want, one of you must keep it,” the head science officer said. “then hand over the white kitten to the Miller’s.”

Washington nodded. 

“We will,” Washingon said. 

“By the time we return to Earth, there must be a kitten,” the head science officer said. “no excuses.”

The head science officer turned away then strode on out of the science lab. The doors wooshed behind the officer. The small group of on duty officers glared at  Washington as  though she had promised the moon that could not be given. They faced in the direction of the cat the move on to their stations. On a blue scanner surrounded by a transparent barrier laid Italian on his side with a flattened torso with light brown dust bunnies covering the one fine poofy main coon cat fur. Mart came over to the body with a long hypospray placing it near the neck.

* * *

Orego entered the admiral’s quarters.

“I don’t need people right now,” Kirk said, standing in front of the large window in his black matching PJ’s. 

The room was dark and gloomy. Kirk’s arms were folded. His matching admiral outfit was clean, yet laid on the table not taken care of as it should be. Orego noticed a vase, a pastel, on the floor. A roomba was taking care of that. The roomba’s humming was distinctive and pleasing in the unsettling silent room. There was no meows in the room. It  was unsettling. Orego sensed a cat yet there was none. From the corner of his eye, he saw a rather heavy feline like figure dart by a chair. 

“I know how it is when you lose a cat,”Orego said. 

Kirk slowly turned from the window. 

“It is like you have lost a good friend,” Orego said. “Less worse than you have lost your best friend,” he slowly walked in. “I lost a pet of mine in the field shortly after my defection. It was a vole.”

“A vole,” Kirk repeated, raising a eyebrow, placing a hand onto the couch.

“Yes, a vole,” Orego said. Kirk lowered his eyebrow yet still baffled. “My trusted friend to make life miserable as possible for those I wanted out.”

“I can see why it is gone,” Kirk said.

“It only died because of engineering,”  Orego said. “they were . . experimenting. . at the time.”

“Did you lose the best friend you ever had during you defection?” Kirk asked.  Orego was starting to speak but Kirk cut him off. “A Cardassian friend.” 

“I did,” Orego said. “For a time, it seemed my life was dim. It was a long process.”

“I am not going to lose mine,” Kirk said. 

“Yet you’re upset he is in surgery,” Orego said. “You know he will come out of this alive.”

"I am used to him saving me,” Kirk said.

“Oh,” Orego said. “I see.”

“Yes, that’s it,” Kirk said. 

“Look at it this way,” Orego said. “he wouldn’t be on the operation table had you not gone after him… I am a terrible form of comfort. And I must say, I have another pest with me.”

“A rabbit,” Kirk said.

“Noooo,” Orego said. “Capybara. She is at home acting as a mother for rescued sehlat cubs.”

“Capybara’s are not pests,” Kirk said. 

“On parts of Earth and severely colonies they are labeled as such,” Orego said. “then again, I have a bad taste in everything.” Orego had a short laugh to himself.  Kirk didn’t laugh nor smile at the Cardassian’s attempt of humor with him. “There’s a good feel good movie recently added to the computer.  AI, Artificial Intelligence.” 

“I will give it a try,” Kirk said. “never seen that one.”

“Counselor Vores is willing to talk,” Orego said. “Or listen for that matter to you.”

“I will consider that,” Kirk said. “Happy to know you’re not interested in Section 31.”

“Section 31,” Orego said, annoyed. “Is the worst organization to exist,” he started to make his way out. “did they approach you? Which one? They promised me they wouldn’t be aboard the hood.”

“Reeds,” Kirk said. “Officer  Reeds.”

Orego stopped at the doors then turned toward Kirk. 

“You’re one of the good officers in the ‘fleet,” Orego said.  “No wonder you are a Admiral.”

Orego walked out of the admiral’s room with a death glare on his face. 

“Aren’t all officers good in Starfleet?” Kirk said, as he sat down onto a seat. He can feel new tears ready to sting his eyes.


	68. Chapter 68

“And he is done,” Hall said, then turned in the direction of the commodore. “I don’t expect to see you or Officer Reeds in here, again, the way he came in.”

Orego almost looked like a fuzzy variation of himself with his scales more apparent. By Orego’s side stood Commander Lurille and Lieutenant Ku’Mie. Orego slowly nodded then looked over toward toward Kirk. Kirk was sitting in a chair alongside the resting Vulcan. Kirk’s hands were clasped together. It had been a day since the attack. Orego pitied the elderly man. His attention turned back toward the biobed.

“Take him to the brig,” Orego said.

Lurille and Ku’Mie escorted Reeds out of Sick Bay.

“Sit down, Commodore,” Hall said, gesturing toward a biobed. “You have some defensive wounds.”

Orego sat onto the side of the biobed.

“I was trying to bring him in, willingly,” Orego said, rolling his sleeves up with a wince. “Ow.”

“Most people don’t want to be caught,” Hall said, taking a dermal generator.

Orego glanced off toward Hall who silently used the device. The dermal generator was slid up and down above his skin. There was a gentle hum from the device.

“I am getting him on conspiracy to kill,” Orego said.

“Oh really,” Hall said.

“Attempting to coerce a admiral into murder, and being aboard this ship as a section 31 member. They are not allowed on vessels where I am on,”   Orego went on, as Hall merely nodded pretending to listen. “It’s a rule that Starfleet instituted after my first rodeo with section 31.”

Hall moved the device to the other arm.

“Uh huh,” Hall said.

“And he is going to a prison ship should section 31 not get him out,” Orego said.

“Wow,” Hall said.

“They can’t cross the line of taking advantage of someone so compromised,” Orego said.

Hall finished up the cleaning.

“Done, Commodore,” Hall said, then handed the dermal generator to a nurse.

Hall glanced over toward Spock.

The operation hadn’t been easy to repair the damage done by the attack. Most of the damage was afflicted on his back and head. Shalia had done most of the repairs on the Vulcan brain. It had taken a team of doctors to save Spock’s spine. And that was not easy. Assistants wiping the sweat off their foreheads. Authorized to use any technology necessary to ensure survival. Technology that the doctors didn’t think they had at all. It was Vulcanian and human at nature which was indicators that he was a hybrid. The long glance the doctors shared and the silence in the room. Hall logged in to the medical file regarding the two officers. Shalia had informed the medical professionals not to be talking about the discovery as it was, not surprisingly, classified per Admiral Miller’s order.

* * *

It was day two of the ride back to Earth.

It was December 7th, 2234.

The USS Hood, Walker class, was making way through space headed in the direction of Earth. The doors wooshed opened before Charles to the colorful bridge. The familiar beeping from the stations, the scanner, and the turbo lift sounds. A familiar sound on every bridge. T’Pot sitting in the chair speaking with the head science officer while having coffee in one hand. The two officers looked over with as much of a pleased professionalism about them. The bridge was bright and joyful not dark and gritty. It is what he liked about bridges in general. They were bright enough to match the mood of the federation. Walker Classes were a exception, and he did not know why it was that way. Magee classes were also part of the exception.

“Commodore,” T’Pot said, lowering her cup. “What brings you here?”

“I am visiting,” Charles said. “For a fifty year old ship. This feels very modern.”

T’Pot glanced over toward the head science office then back toward Charles.

“Of course,” T’Pot said. “we manage to keep up with the updates Star Fleet gives every year.”  
Charles stopped where he had been walking when the screen simmered.

“Captain…” Charles said. “I  believe you need to put this ship on red alert.”

A collection of vessels appeared in space around the simmering section.

“Cardassian vessels,” the head science officer said. “What brings them here.”

“Captain, we are being hailed,”T’Pot’s eyes trailed from the Commodore toward the communications officer then toward the screen. T’Pot zipped her command blue up.

“Allow hailing,” T’Pot said.

“This is Gul Prit,” Prit said. He had a goatee and seemed to have his hair u in a bun while leaned against the chair. He had a bruise from the side of his face. A chipped obvious fang sticking out. From behind Prit’s vessel appeared Sachj’s vessel. “Leave this to us.”

“I don’t know whether to believe that,” T’Pot said. “we are returning to Earth.”

“You can get there, just wait behind us,” Prit said. “we can easily take care of this threat.”

“What are you facing?” T’Pot asked.

“We Cardassians call it mar ol'lo tef'Cha,” Prit said. _Green life killer._ “You call it the. . what is it again?”

“Culborough Gresociou,” Charles said, as he stepped forward in the direction of the captain’s chair. The name was neither English or another language, it was named  after him and three others who had found a way to rescue him. The very same group who found a way to send the creature far out of the alpha quadrant. And it costed the rescue parties lives in doing so. The name was haunting and yet unknown, mysterious, just as a mythical creature from earth’s past. He came to a stop alongside T’Pot. “you should leave.”

“Hah,” Prit said. “When did Cardassians retreat?“

“You retreated in first contact with the federation,” the head science officer said.

“Because we were at victory,” Prit said.

“The victory you got was speaking via  universal translator and able to understand each other,” T’Pot said. “We will find another way around you and this creature. Perhaps if we do not attack it then it will not attack us.”

She turned in the direction of the communications officer giving the signal to end the communication.

“Yes, Captain,” Brett said.

T’Pot picked up her coffee cup then took another sip from it. The screen turned dead. Charles felt sick so he left the bridge. Few officers were concerned. T’Pot waited as the navigator began to plot a course. The bright blue giant figure appeared in space. T’Pot watched the vessel vanish as they jumped into warp going past the scenery. In mid warp they were stopped unexpectedly like something had collided against the ship acting as a barrier. Bole looked up from her novel, troubled. Kirk’s  raised head up in alarm while holding onto Spock’s hand. Spock’s eyes slowly opened, without aim, turning his head toward the admiral slowly starting to speak in concern. Orego collided against the wall across from some ensigns. T’Pot stood up with wide eyes. The creature, the Culborough Gresociou, had a barrier up. The Gresociou sent a wave of green sparkling like torpedos after it. They slammed onto Prit’s ship sending a wave of flames landing damage upon,

“Red alert,” T’Pot said, holding onto her coffee cup. “Battle stations.”

The ship was brightened by the hue of red inside as Charles ran down the corridor.

* * *

Sachj appeared in a blue light in Bole’s quarters as a hologram. 

“Sharon,”  Sachj said. “I brought the cavalry.”

Bole stood up. 

“You knew it would be here and you failed to alarm the USS Hood,” Bole said. 

“They would not believe a space pirate,” Sachj said. 

“They would have listened to a ex-officer,” Bole said. “I would have listened.”

“No,” Sachj said. “you didn’t.”

“I have,” Bole said. “If you want to help then get out of here.”

“There’s a problem about that,” Sachj said. “Tried, aND–”

Bole laughed. 

“You’re stuck,” Bole said. “How funny is that you’ve gotten your crew into something you can’t get out of?”

“Star Fleet can get out of this,” Sachj said. 

“Can we?” Bole asked, doubtfully. “We only got out of this by cooperation between officers.”

“Dear,” Sachj rubbed his forehead. “You want me to offer my services?”

“Your crew compliment before it gets destroyed,” Bole said. “Depending where you are. You might be next on the menu,” she laid her book down then came toward the man. “Why did you become a space pirate? To explore? To steal? Pirates don’t kill in space,” her black eyes saw through the man. She stepped forward toward him. “you’re afraid of _something_.”

Sachj grew grim. 

“Fine,” Sachj said, folding his arms. “Just this once I will be cooperative with Starfleet.” 

“The captain is T’Pot,” Bole said. 

“That security chief,” Sachj said. “I remember her from one of my runs.  Nice to hear she got what she deserved.” Sachj turned away and vanished from the betazoid’s room. 

Bole briefly closed her eyes then reopened them with a sigh  as the light in her room glowed a gentle red.


	69. Chapter 69

“ _This is your captain speaking,”_ there was a beat. “ _We have come across the Culborough Gresociou.  Please remain calm as the representatives and ambassadors are moved to a safe deck,”_ Spock was being wheeled away by Kirk following along to Lurille passing several security officers _. “security officers are to report to Weapon Specialist Lieutenant G’thur in case of the Gresociou’s invasion aboard this ship. Starfleet command has been informed and we are actively working on the way to escape  the Gresociou. T’Pot out_.”

Charles was in the transporter room putting on protective gear. Lieutenant Ku’mie and Ensign Raj’eh’ish were helping each other gear up. Orego came into the transporter room in his personal gear. Charles looked toward the Cardassian not at all pleased. 

“Orego,” Charles said. 

“Charles, you’re not going there,” Orego said. 

“If I go, this will make it have a favor for me,” Charles said. 

“I promised Hugh and Shannon that you would be there for the wedding!” Orego said. “Cardassians are more capable of adapting to what you want to put yourself into.” he came to the side of the human. “This  is suicide, mentally, and physically, trading your mental health for the lives of a ship.”

“The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one,”  Charles said. 

“The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one,”  Orego argued back. 

“At least I go with my dignity, Orego,”   Charles argued. 

“The first thing you told me after my defection was that humans put aside their selflessness,“ Orego said. His face grew dark. “You lied to me.” Charles briefly closed his eyes, emotionally, then put on his professional mask. 

“i. . I didn’t lie,” Charles said. 

“Then what?” Orego asked. 

“I can’t accept letting a Cardassian, who has never been tested or studied for something like this, to _do_ it,” Charles explained.  “Look… I . . I do want it differently. I really do.” Charles nodded off toward Doctor Hall. Hall took out a sedative hypospray from a box then approached Charles. “A human gotta do what they have to do.” 

Charles placed a hand on the Cardassian’s shoulder. 

“And if you are so insistent, perhaps you can come with me,” Charles said. 

Hall put a hypospray on the side of the Cardassian’s neck. Charles’s eyes widened, his hands slipping from the human’s waist. His eye struggled to stay open as he looked toward his friend. Charles guided Orego over to the transporter panel placing him against the wall. Orego’s heavy eyes came to a close. The group of three boarded the transporter padd. Charles held up his adapted phaser complete with protectionary gear on him.  By his side stood the two officers in bright yellow contrasting against the dark protection gear. Charles nodded toward the transporter technician.

“Transporting in progress,”  the transporter technician said, sliding up the series of bars on the console. 

The three vanished in a blue light leaving a outlining them like a computer generating a digital human in blue.

“Come on, Nurse Dindesay,” Hall said, toward the Vulcan nurse. “We have a Commodore to put to safety.”


	70. Chapter 70

Living in a alternate variation of history came with its cons. It was a unpredictable period until the familiar era arrived. Some parts of history were not documented well or classified so that was like walking in a minefield wearing a blindfold. Just one wrong move and everything could be changed for the worse. Kirk and over a nine dozen representatives were secured on deck nine in the mess hall. Some of the representatives were sitting down in chairs. Tables were out of the room left into the corridor. 

Science officers were left to the science labs. Medical officers were restricted to sick bay with a crew of security officers standing guard. Of all the fifteen decks, several security officers were stationed outside the mess hall lead by Lurille. Durche was looking off into space through the window watching the battle going on between the Cardassian vessel and Gresociou. Kirk worriedly watched watched a ship nothing like a Cardassian vessel come alongside the damaged vessel firing on the oncoming blast. 

“I never heard of this Gresociou  .  .” Spock said. “Nor read about it.”

“Perhaps it became extinct because of this battle,”‘ Kirk said, resting by Spock’s chair in a spare chair. “A good reason why no one talks about it.”

“Logical,” Spock said. 

The ship shuddered as the lights briefly went out. 

“Charles. . “ Orego’s eyes slowly opened. He was laid against the wall.

Orego’s heart broke into pieces. 

* * *

The inside of the beetle was spooky and terrifying at once.

There was no light in the long corridors that had the shape of a rounded design. 

The lighting from the protection gear displayed the dark and chilling design. 

As though there were a series of long, thin bars installed bent to the will of the ship. The sound of insects were around them. They were not stepping on the insects for that matter. Ku’mie was visibly disturbed. Raj’eh’is and Ku’mie watched Charles back. He lowered the phaser down. The additions on his shoulder served as lighting to what was ahead. Ku’mie looked in both ways bobbing their head like a chicken gazing around. Something didn’t feel right. Not one bit. There was a eerie calm. A familiar one to Charles. Raj’eh’is came to a stop in front of the Commodore then held out a hand. Rak’eh’ish closed his hand then lowered it looking over toward Charles who was gazing around. 

“They know we are here,” Charles said. 

“Where is the center section?” Raj’eh’is asked. 

“I don’t know,”  Charles said. “They just reached out and attacked me.” Ku’mie turned around stepping aback holding the adjusted phaser rifle. 

“Great,” Raj’eh’is said, rubbing his forehead. 

“I was dragged to the chamber,” Charles said. “I couldn’t exactly see since they blinded me.”

The phaser was long and bulky, heavy, even. There were two more chambers installed. One for each method that worked on killing the insects. Ku’mie turned bobbing their head. A flash of light landing on the wall. Ku’mie slowly lowered their phaser. 

“You mean to tell me that Commodore Orego had good reason that you shouldn’t go?” Raj’eh’is asked. Ku’mie slowly walked forward lowering the phaser rifle. “Cardassians have better sense of direction than we do. They are better at finding insects than we are.”

“Their hearing is intuned for that,” Charles said. “I believed it would be worth a shot finding it before the same thing happens again.” 

Raj’eh’is stared at the man with a dead panned expression. The air was still. The sound of insects was remarkably absent. Charles felt uncomfortable as he felt all eyes were on him. Charles normally felt comfortable with eyes on him but this was a different situation that wasn’t the typical. Charles felt the respect for him drain from Raj’eh’is.

“You just gathered a small landing party for protection,” Raj’eh’is said.  “without a plan or idea where to go…  to get over some trauma?” Charles considered the reply. Only hesitating briefly. 

“When you put it that way–” Charles said. 

“My goood!” Raj’eh’is said, rubbing his forehead turning away. Raj’eh’is shook his head. “I picked the wrong ship,” he turned toward Raj’eh’is half pissed, half amused, and professional. “Commodore, there is **therapy** for a reason!” 

The wall paneling slid back with a loud grumbling that earned the two officer’s attention. 

“What did you do, Lieutenant?”  Raj’eh’is asked, coming to the Lieutenant’s side. 

“You do not want to touch the walls,” was all the Lieutenant replied. 

“This is the right way,”  The three looked on toward the newly formed corridor. Charles walked forward passing by the two officers. “I can feel it in my brain.” 

Raj’eh’is sighed, then flipped out the golden communicator. 

“Go after him, Lieutenant,” Raj’eh’is said. “I will inform the Hood.”

“Yes, Commander,” Ku’mie said, then tagged after the Commodore.

“Ensign Raj’eh’is to the USS Hood,” Raj’eh’is said.

“Hood here,” T’Pot’s voice came over. 

“Permission to speak freely, Captain,” Raj’eh’is said. 

“Request granted,” T’Pot said. 

“We are screwed,” Raj’eh’is said. 

“How so?” T’Pot inquired. 

“Commodore Culber does not know where he is going. He is only following his brain’s feeling. I believe this is a dangerous move. He is attempting to reconcile with his trauma rather than relying off scans.” the sounds of insects grew louder around him. A green insect landed onto his shoulder with horns covering its body. “Lieutenant Ku’mie is following him.”

“Ensign, I cannot hear you,” T’Pot said. “Speak louder.”

“Ku’mie is with him!” Raj’eh’is said. The insect traveled to the side of his neck on the pieces of dark metal bronzed with the starfleet delta. Another landed beside it. And another. And another. The buzzing was soft. “Permission to knock the Commodore out and return him to the—-” the buzzing grew loud.  A loud scream erupted from the Ensign as the insects dug into his neck. A jet of blood flew out.. “AHHHHH  AHHHHHH AHHHHHHHHHHH—”  the line went dead as he collasped out of pain. 

“Transporter room, one to transport, medical team be on site,” T’Pot said. There was a disturbing silence as she ended the communication. Raj’eh’is’s painful, agonizing screams echoed like a bad sting in their mind. T’Pot tapped her fingers on the arm rest.  “Officer Dale… Contact the party and inform them that they must return immediately.”

“Aye … aye captain,” Officer Dale, communications officer, turned back toward his station and began to hail the team. “Hood to Culber, Hood to Culber. .”

* * *

Charles’s communicator beeped on the ground as the couple walked on ahead. 

“Did you hear that?” Ku’mie asked. 

“Hear what?” Charles asked. 

“I thought I heard a communicator,” Ku’mie said, looking over her shoulder. 

“Liuetenant, if it’s ringing, we don’t go after it,” Charles said. 

“Why?” Ku’mie asked. 

There was silence from Charles at first.

“You don’t want to see,” Charles walked on.

Ku’mie followed behind him as the sound of buzzing was heard.

* * *

Hall entered  the transporter room to smell blood.

There was loud buzzing inside the transporter room. 

Noises that didn’t belong there. 

“Step aside, doctor,” came a ensign. 

Security officers stepped in front of the group then fired on the buzzing creatures. Green liquid erupted from the juicy bodies. Blood decorated the transporter padd. Hall took aside his team and they wanted out the firing until the loud booming from the phaser rifles became soundless. They peaked in to see the body laid on the transporter padd with layers of skin peeled back and his eye sockets were empty. 

In his entire career, Hall had never seen a death that grizzly. The arms were covered in muscle. Some of the bones could be seen. They returned with a black bag. There was no heartbeat. The corpse’s uniform was in tatters. His golden communicator was in half. His long golden hair was halfway eaten away. His feet were the only body part that retained skin displaying the dark purple color. The corpse was lifted into the bag. Hall closed the black bag then nodded toward the surviving transporter technician. 

“Transporter room to bridge,” the technician said, in a unsteady voice. 

“Bridge here,” T’Pot’s voice came over. 

“The officer didn’t make it,”  the technician said.

“My condolences,” T’Pot said. “Bridge out.”

And the occupied gurney was wheeled out. Through the doors came Orego.  Orego stepped onto the transporter padd holding onto his phaser rifle. The technician shakingly raised the three bars on the transporter console. Orego vanished before the officer’s eyes wearing  a pissed off facial expression with his phaser rifle ready.

* * *

T’Pot watched the Cardassian vessel explode.

The bright light illuminated space briefly then it died down.

Sacj’s vessel had drifted away enough not to be part of the explosion.

The shields were up on the Hood acting as a cocoon. Asides to the first strike by the Gresociou, the ship was intact. Starfleet command had yet to reply what to do about this problem. T’Pot had a fear that they would die in space, all of them, ranging from the Commodores, to the the admiral, to the Ambassadors, and last the Delegates. Space become too dangerous to go near Catalia. After the Cardassians, the insect would go after them. Whoever they are. Whatever their reason were. They had failed to respond to their hails of friendship. Diplomacy was off the table. 

“Captain T’Pot,” Sacj appeared on the screen. His bridge was badly damaged and he didn’t look too good himself. Pieces of the ceiling on the bridge was dangling down in the center. Smoke was drifting off stations. The ship trembled with more force striking it. Sacj was grasping onto a station to keep himself steady. 

Captain T’Pot stood up from the chair.

“Captain Sacj,” T’Pot greeted him. “I see your ship is damaged. Prepared to hand yourself over?”

“Not … yet,” Sacj said. 

“Even if I could help you, I am bound by Starfleet regulations to not aid in your lifestyle,” T’Pot said.  Sacj rolled an eye. 

“Permission to beam over non-essential personnel to your ship,” Sacj said.

“Are they in the law?” T’Pot inquired. 

“They’re not in the system,” Sacj said. “Please, take care of them. Expect them in five minutes after we arrive. We might have some passengers from the other Cardassian vessels, non-essential, just like them aboard.”

“Cardassians working with pirates?” T’Pot said. 

“For the good of people they care,” Sacj said. “We’ll be by your ship in thirty-five minutes on impulse power.” He turned away as a panel exploded behind him.  The screen turned to black. T’Pot turned away from the screen facing the captain’s chair. 

“What are we?” T’Pot asked. “A rescue ship?” her gazed went over toward the acting chief of security. “With me, Lieutenant T’Stonn.”

T’Pot was joined by T’Stonn toward the doorway.


	71. Chapter 71

“Lieutenant T’Stonn,” T’Pot said, as they came to a stop at the doors. “I require you wait outside of these quarters.”

“Yes, Captain,” T’Stonn said. “Ensign Morales is on his way.”

T’Pot walked through the doorway. Bole was resting in her chair drinking from a glass. She looked up through the dimming red light in her quarters and a smile grew on the woman’s face. She poured a glass for the Vulcan Captain then held it out. T’Pot took the glass and took a sip from it. She had a hand link behind her back. 

“I am in doubt of what I am choosing to do,” T’Pot said. 

“Dear, dear,” Bole said, placing a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Good captains have that.”

“You made it look easy,” T’Pot reminded her. 

“Just because we were on the USS Shran does not mean everything was easy,” Bole said. “Those space travelers we came across … “  the betazoid paused looking back, briefly, then finished. “made it difficult in my command to make the right choice,” she leaned against the side of the couch letting the contents of the glass slide from side to side.  “In the short time I knew you. .  A betazoid like me can’t leave that much of a impression.”

T’Pot looked down briefly toward the floor

“I am bound by starfleet regulations to bring Captain Sacj and his crew to justice,” she sat down alongside the captain in a troubled manner. She took another sip from the glass then lowered it down to her lap.  “My bondmate has not been helpful with my thoughts about the matter.”

“Sacj is the kind who doesn’t go without a fight,” Bole said. 

“How long did you know him?” T’Pot asked. 

“I can’t say,” Bole said. “But I _can_ say you don’t want that fight when you are in the middle of one that  you might not get out of in one piece.”

T’Pot slowly nodded. 

“You would have taken his offer,” T’Pot said. Her head turned toward the resigned officer. 

“I would,” Bole said then took a sip from her glass. She lowered the glass down into her hands.. “But I would be compromised,” T’Pot took a sip from the glass.   
“He is my former crewmate. You are making the right choice.”

T’Pot swallowed then looked over raising a eyebrow. 

“I have not told you my choice,” T’Pot said. “nor the circumstances behind it.”

“You don’t need to,” Bole said, with a warm smile. “You’re a better captain than I am.”

T’Pot did not appear to smile as she took a sip from the glass. 

* * *

There are times where Orego himself was proud to be friends with humans. 

This was one of those times. 

Orego did not like it one bit. 

He made a _promise._ He kept his promises just like the one with Admiral Miller. He had to keep it that way. In his family, promises were reinforced as something to be kept. When one was made, it was fulfilled eventually over time. This one would never be fulfilled. Promises were made to be kept, Orego’s father once told him. The promise to Cardassia was entirely different. Because loyalty came from loving the planet, the first order, and society as a whole. It was not a unique thing among the Cardassian people far as Orego was concerned. Back when he lived among them, Cardassians outside his family never kept their promises with him. 

Orego made his way through a doorway. He walked slowly as though he were walking on a battle field where there was horror. His eyes were fixated on a resting figure. He came to a stop seeing the sight that he never wanted to see. Orego stood there slowly lowering his adjusted phaser rifle to his side. All feeling in his body went numb. The pieces that were left of his heart were stomped upon. It was exactly like how Charles had described it, except there was a skeleton of a larger beast from across. In the chair, in the center of the room propped on a platform rested Charles. There were long tubes placed into parts of his body. Most of the tubes were into his head. His once dark hair was gone seemingly shaved off.

Orego staggered back landing against the wall. 

“ _No_ ,” Orego said, he slid down toward the floor.  “You stupid idiot. You, stupid, STUPID, idiot!”

Orego lowered his head then rubbed his forehead as tears came down his cheek. Orego wept for a friendship, and for the Culber’s. The first friend he made in Starfleet was gone. Beyond his reach to contact, or awaken. He had arrived too late after the attack had taken place to help out. The field had probably given away when it finally left. No one told him how they got him out of there. It was a mystery. It wasn’t mentioned in the reports regarding what  lead to him getting snatched. Most of the information came from Charles who wrote a very long, solemn report. He leaned his head against the wall as his tears stopped looking back at his friendship with the man. A friendship well made.  And he couldn’t repay him for it. 

A unsteady thin hand was placed onto his shoulder. 

“Commodore!”  came Ku’mie’s voice.

Orego turned to see Ku’mie lacking a right eye hearing buzzing sounds from behind them.

“Lieutenant?” Orego said. 

Ku’mie flipped out  their communicator as Orego shifted toward them.

“Ku’mie to Hood, two to transport!”

The buzzing grew louder.

* * *

The doors to the mess hall opened. All eyes shifted toward the doorway to see a collection of Cardassian children ranging in age and height. Kirk stood up, stepping forward, so Lurille stepped aside linking his hand behind his back as the children stood in a line. There were twenty children in total. One of them, the smallest, was visibly upset. The little baby was being carried in the arms of the tallest child. The curious eyes of intrigue scanning the large crowd of people ahead. 

“Delegates, Ambassadors, and Admiral,” Lurille greeted the crowd. “These are temporary visitors from the  Cardassian vessels,”  There were whispers among the crowd. Some appeared to be in dismay. If the Cardassians were gone then who was in the way to defend the vessel? Lurille shook his hands. “They are just as scared as you are and they will be taken to a Cardassian station afterwards. They have family on Cardassia Prime but for now …” he linked his hands behind his back. “they are orphans.”

The scene panned to show that Sacj was kept in a adjacent cell from Officer Reeds. Sacj looked like that he had been betrayed, stabbed in the back, and left behind. Sacj lowered his head. The scene panned over to the mess hall. Lurille left the mess hall. The ship had a gentle tremble to it. Kirk took out his communicator then made his way toward the children wheeling Spock alongside. Cardassian Children had yet to learn Standard so early in the 2200′s. It was not necessary since Cardassia and the federation hardly crossed paths as often as they should. Kirk knelt down then held his hand out for the tallest. 

“Hello,” Kirk said. The translator repeated after him in Cardassian. “I am Admiral Miller, and,” he gestured toward Spock,  “he who is my husband, Selek Miller.”

Spock noddded his head. 

“Greetings,” Spock said, offering the ta’al. ” _Ambassador_ Miller.”

The translator caught on after the Vulcan’s reply. 

“Do you want to hear a story about a dragon, a princess, a knight, and his scribe?” Kirk picked up the smallest, and shortest child who was wiping off tears. The crying ceased,. He waited for the translator to finish what he had asked. The little one blinked, with bright blue eyes, staring at the admiral.   The admiral smiled looking off toward the children. “Raise your hand.”

Slowly, but surely, most of the children raised their hands. 

“Excellent,” Spock said. The children lowered their hands. “Because the story we like to tell can’t be told.”

“Nope, not right now,” Kirk agreed, after the translator finished translating Spock’s addition.  

“The stars are not in the right position,” Spock said. 

“Not yet,” Kirk said.  Kirk turned toward the crowd. “Come on,” He gestured toward the crowd. “Anyone like to tell help?”

The Andorian Ambassador, Tyle, stepped forward.

“I do,” Tyle said. 

Kirk played with the little one looking over toward Tyle with a wide smile. 

“Children, your storyteller is over there,” Kirk said. “Don’t tackle him.”

The children ran after Tyle. The crowd parted ways and the Cardassian children tackled the Andorian ambassador to his feet. Kirk laughed all heartedly. Spock had a small smile at the pile of children acting as a mound. The other representatives all began to laugh. The trembling had stopped and there was no attacks for the time being by the Gresociou. The group of children slid off the Andorian. The Andorian seemed to be unphased and held his hand out then caught the communicator. Kirk and Spock completed the ozh’esta together looking on happily as the Andorian instructed the group of children to organize themselves.


	72. Chapter 72

“No signs of activity from the Gresociou,” came the not-as-satisfying status report. “Last of the Cardassian vessels were destroyed.”

The captain stood in front of the large view screen staring out toward the vessel. 

“Warp factor one to Earth,” T’Pot said. 

The helmsmen the bar up alongside the console. A moment later, officers on the bridge were sent falling. T’Pot stood upright with her feet planted on the floor. She narrowed her eyes at the obstacle then turned in the direction of the chair.  Commodore Orego had exiled himself to his quarters and hadn’t come out since then. It was Ku’mie who had to give the grim report that Commodore Culber was no longer serving in the line of duty. They were expected to give the full report of what lead to it after being discharged from Sick Bay with a prosthetic eye. T’Pot came to the captain’s chair.  

“This is in idle, yet … ” the head science officer said. “the barrier is still up.”

“Perhaps it is Commodore Culber’s mind in work,” T’Pot said, the head science officer had a look of disbelief. “he recognizes there is a federation vessel and he cannot attack it.”

“But this does not explain why it is still here,” the head science officer said. The long edge remained at the corner of the screen. There was simmers of a green barrier in the distance contrasting against space. “It could be that he is adapting to being a brain.”

“Possibly,” T’Pot said, then rubbed her chin. She looked toward the two officers. with a raised eyebrow. “Do we have enough phaser additions in case of  Gresociou invasion?”

T’Stonn and the head science officer exchanged a glance then T’Stonn nodded.

“The ship, itself, is a battlefield, much like 3-D chess that more suits this kind of battle between decks,” T’Stonn said. “Should we run out of adjusted phasers and phaser rifles, we will need to look toward the science officers and engineer officers for a another solution before it happens.”

The head science officer nodded in agreement. The head science officer was a augmented Loktaran. Looked a mix of humanoid and machine co-existing at the same time. Their name, simply put, in the language of the Loktaran’s _meant_ head science officer. Loktaran names were unique when it came to machines. Well known to be very long in the alpha quadrant. Everyone called the officer ‘HSO’ in turn. A feat of survival and adapting resting on the bridge was something most scientists and doctors marveled at in examination rooms. 

T’Pot turned in the direction of the screen. 

“Prepare emergency plans for this scenario,” T’Pot said. “Contact the science labs first.”

* * *

Winona dropped a glass to the floor as the news played. 

“Reports have surfaced that another starship has been destroyed by the Greosciou–”

George came to Winona’s side.

“They are okay, they’re okay, Winnie,” George clenched the woman’s shoulders as teas were starting to grow in her eyes.  “It’s okay, they are okay, Winnie.” 

Sam looked up from his colorful blocks. 

“This is a developing story—” the reporter’s voice was switched.

Jim‘s eyes were set on the screen that changed to  a cartoon.

“It wasn’t them,” George told her. “it can’t have been them, they would have known to stop it.”

Winona was visibly scared, and emotional falling into the man’s arms. George combed his fingers through her hair in a soothing voice. The loud crying became lower and lower until it was a sniffle or two. She was a short figure pressed against his chest compared to his tall figure. Jim looked on, confused, with genuine concern on his face.  Jim tossed a circular object that rattled once hitting the floor. Jim stood up then tailed after the toy babbling some words, “Aaahhaaayyyaaaaa. vabababab ahhaaaya.” he shook the toy making a random sound. “Ahaaayyya.” and made his way toward the playroom. “Bababababa.”

* * *

The reports of what the captain wanted baffled most of the science officers. None of them assigned to the bridge. How could they know exactly what the captain wanted? What _kind_ of ammunition was she thinking of. There was a eerie silence in the science lab. Science officers didn’t know what to do. They were all thinking different out of the box ways. Mart had arms folded sitting down in a chair. The  hirty some science officers were at a standstill.  Most of them were ensigns. A few were lieutenants. 

“How about we use bug spray?” Mart asked. 

“They have thick skin,”  Washington said.

“Computer,” Mart started. “How do we get rid of beetles aboard a starship?”

“Stomping on them, or removing them to a bottled container,” the computer said. “physical removal is required.” there were groans from the thirty some science officers.

“Engineering does have lots of spare parts and pieces littering the room,” Hancho said, as  all eyes directed toward the Andorian.  “Engineering could make gigantic roombas capable of killing.”

“The reports of the creatures did say they could eat through metal,”  Washington said.

“Engineering has metal that can’t be eaten by anything like Titanium,” a science officer officer perked up. “the other solution would be making a pathogen that makes their insides melt.”

“That would leave nasty holes in the ship,” Hancho noted. 

“Which makes the roomba ideal,” the short science officer nodded. 

“A large roomba,” Washington said. “That is a great idea.”

“But how is it going to kill the beetles?” Hancho said. 

“Leave that to engineering,” came another science officer, smugly. “they are good at figuring things like that out.”

* * *

“Engineering to bridge,”  came the familiar voice. 

“Chief Spencer,” T’Pot said. “has the solution been made?”

“We need a hour to make a dozen of these,” Spencer said. “If you want some that can take over all fifteen decks that would take two hours.”

T’Pot paused, considering, then nodded. 

“Make the bakers dozen,”  T’Pot said. “Bridge out.” 

The ship was now to the side of the Gresociou rather near the leg. The design was more apparent. If they tried to shoot at it, then it would attack them. The previous encounter with this creature spelled out in bold letters on the reports. It was something taught in Starfleet academy. Drilled in to her mind. T’Pot was tempted to contact their resident strong telepathic. Her finger came toward the buttons but reached back at the last minute. Bole would have used herself. She wasn’t going to cop out that way. They could find a way–it occurred to the woman. 

They had to kill the insect. 

She ran through her memory of the report. He didn’t see who or what had been in the center. It could work. It was highly risky. Bole would not have taken this route  She would have taken the short cut. Killing the creature would mean killing the commodore. And freeing the Hood. Her bondmate’s alarm came through the bond sensing the negative thoughts, and the decision around it. Starfleet found solutions. There was no other way to get out. As much as she regretted it, she had to send a team back there and vaporize the body. Then get back to the Hood before it tried to get them. Or kill them for that matter. There was no doubt in her mind about it. But first she had to wait an hour before taking a chance.


	73. Chapter 73

“Captain T’Pot requested I go along,”  Bole lied, joining the team on the transporter padd. 

“This is a life or death mission, Miss Bole,” T’Stonn said. “I hardly see any reason why she would send a civilian along.”

“Are you saying this is not a logical intervention?” Bole asked. 

“Yes,” T’Stonn said. “You are to stay here.”

“You don’t want to kill a commodore,” Bole said. “Do you?”

T’Stonn paused, briefly. 

“No,” T’Stonn said. 

“I have a better idea,” Bole said, as the transporter doors opened. 

Bole turned to see the Cardassian dressed in Star Fleet uniform that was black. It was two piece and appeared to be edited for the form of a Cardassian most notably at the neck section. He had a silver Starfleet emblem on his chest. There were visible patterns of the delta decorating the shirt. He wore a gloomy facial expression. There was no protectionary gear on him. It seemed to be a older type of uniform that he had retrieved from the quartermaster.  Orego had a heavy variation of a phaser rifle that was old and more capable of taking out a squad of beetles rather than a one shot with one chance. 

“Commodore,” T’Stonn said. He had never seen that kind of uniform come out, yet.  “In order to lead, you do require some light.”

“I can see in the dark, Lieutenant,” Orego reminded. 

“And what kind of uniform is that?“ Stonn asked.

“The special kind,” Orego said.

“Welcome aboard, Commodore,” Bole said. 

“Not enough room for the extra two security officers,” the transporter technician said.

T’Stonn looked over toward the two security officers then toward the technician. 

“Energize,” T’Stonn said. 

The small group vanished off the transporter padd after the technician slid the bars up.


	74. Chapter 74

The ship trembled then the lights went out. The ship tilted sideways then readjusted moments later. The mess hall was full of panicked, alarmed screaming. Kirk came over to a panel then opened it up. His fingers dug into the paneling twisting and curling the circuits. Kirk held out a hand then Spock put his roll of gum into it. Kirk wrapped the gum around the wiring. The lights partially turned on.  Kirk was thankful that Spock had been chewing on bubblegum that a Tellarite Ambassador had given him earlier. The small circular lights were powered on rather than the long bars above them making it seem they were in hollywood light.

“Lights on,” Kirk said. “For now.”

“Oh my god, I am going to _die_ here,” Cordrick said, the Tellarite Ambassador, complained. 

“You’re not going to die here,” Kirk said. “Relax, Delegates, Ambassadors, the lights will be back on, very soon.”

* * *

“The power is not going to be back on anytime soon,” Spencer replied. 

_Damn!_ T’Pot’s fingers rolled into a fist. _  
_

“You have good news,” T’Pot said, calmly. 

“Captain, our dilithium crystals can only work so far on transporting us,” Spencer explained. “Wherever the insect invasion had landed, we can only use so much power. Main power generator is dead.”

T’Pot nodded. 

“Are the machines ready?” T’Pot inquired.

“Stabby’s dozen are ready and functional,” Spencer replied. “Permission to rank them as a Commander.”

“Granted,” T’Pot said. “Bridge out.” 

The bridge was dark yet the only thing providing light were the stations.

“Captain,” the head science officer said. “Permission to join the science lab.”

“Permission granted,” T’Pot said. She reached out taking the arm of the science officer. “Take a adapted phaser.”

“Yes, Captain,” the head science officer said, with a nod. “Should the attempt fail… It has been an honor to serve by your side.”

“Likewise, SCO,” T’Pot said. 

The head science officer walked away leaving the bridge taking along a adjusted phaser.

“Captain!” the doors closed shortly after the announcement was being made. “Deck One reports sightings of beetles.”

T’Pot composed herself. 

“Make the ship wide announcement,” T’Pot said.

* * *

“Deck one has been reported to have insects, they may travel up the jefferie tubes. Please refrain from being in the way of Commander Stabby—” and the announcement was cut off, 

Kirk came out of the mess hall to join Lurille. Kirk had a light weight phaser in one hand.

“Admiral,” Lurille said. “You’re supposed to be in there not out here.”

Kirk had a grim, yet professional like demeanor. 

“You think Admirals like to be protected when they can do something?” Kirk asked. 

“Yes,” Lurille said. 

“That’s a no,” Kirk said. “There is no way that I am not going to stand around and not try to help.”

“Your husband needs you,“ Lurille said. 

Kirk sighed, shaking his head walking aside to Lurille.

“Sometimes, I do things I am not proud of to make sure he is alive,“  Kirk said. “I did another one of those… I can’t imagine seeing him be eaten alive when there is something I _can do_ about it.”

“I understand how you feel,” Lurille said. “Truly.”

“Let me help,” Kirk said. 

Lurille paused, torn between escorting him back inside and letting him help. 

They had only so many fuel to fire off at the creatures. Over fifty, if the insects went slowly on them. If anything, based off the story that a surviving technician had said, they were going to eat him alive. And he wouldn’t see his husband eaten alive, either. A senseless sacrifice. Even if this Stabby could help them kill the invading insects, it couldn’t just be capable of going from top to bottom. Insects were capable of climbing anything. Stabby was a well known concept in Starfleet officer history. Stories of a Roomba being customized as a friend and as a protector when worse came to worse. The genuine plea in the admiral’s eyes made it difficult to say no. 

Lurille’s eyes landed down toward the admiral’s phaser. 

“What kind of phaser is that, admiral?” Lurille asked. 

“Oh, this?” Kirk waved the bulky gray, white, golden device. He glanced off toward the officer. “Just good old fashioned self defense.”

There was a loud buzzing from down the hall. The security officers and the admiral looked in the direction of the unexpected noise that sent some of them jumping back. Kirk looked over hearing the sound of distant humming machinery noise. Kirk looked on toward the moving mass on the floor headed in their direction. Kirk had several replacements for the phaser in his right pocket, just for safe keeping in case the worse happened. One of the ensigns handed Kirk a long attachable shaft then informed him that it was to be attached and the shaft did all the work changing what type of power was being sent through it. It was nothing like the ordinary phaser technology. Kirk put away his phaser amno. Kirk placed his antique glasses on then fired after the very obvious moving shape on the floor. 

His aging, poor eyes adjusted to the gazing into the darkness quite quickly. The makeshift lighting in the otherwise not-well-light hall became viewable. The beetles were larger than most that he had seen in his lifetime let alone on Earth and in Starfleet. What he saw coming out of his phaser was nothing like he had seen before. A flash of gold jetted out of it into the direction of the targets. The shouts from a ensign drew his attention, pointing up. The humming was getting louder. The buzzing was getting closer to the door. Getting closer to Spock. Just how many was sent through the invasive  shot? The ship rattled from side to side. Some of the officers were thrust against the wall.   Kirk had his side of the bond blocked off from the ambassador while keeping himself steady using the side of his wall as his support continuing to fire. 

“Step aside!” came a shout.  “it’s Quartermaster Commander Stabby!”

Kirk was yanked back from a wave of oncoming beetles taking to the side out of the oncoming machine’s path. 

“My god, it is real,” came the breath taken Lurille. 

Kirk’s jaw slowly dropped at the sheer size of the machine. 

“Quartermaster Stabby?” Kirk said. 

It was rounded but large like a tank. 

A series of long blades were extended around the machine at the bottom similar to knives. The sound of beetles shells were cracking—Kirk was impressed. And concerned. Stabby would never be able to serve in star fleet in that sheer size nor be able to go through quarters. He could serve in prison or in other locations that were very large. The ship groaned as though somethings were moving among them. Like a series of smaller roombas were chasing after hundreds of insects all piling on to each other fleeing from the terrifying machine. Kirk was too busy staring at the passing Roomba to notice that there was one unsquashed like figure lurking around. Kirk felt a pain in his foot. A security officer fired at his foot at the shape of a bulging figure sticking out. They finished off the last of the remaining beetles. Kirk leaned against the wall taking his boot off. 

“Lurille to Doctor Hall, can you hear me?” Lurille said.

“This is Doctor Shalia,” Shalia came over. “Hall is dead.”

“Is your route infested?” Lurille said. 

There was loud humming over the communicator. 

“Not anymore,” Shalia said. “Take the turbo lift.”

“Good,” Lurille said, then flipped the communicator close. “on our way.” Hhe turned toward the shortest Ensign. “Stay and inform the representatives about Stabby.”

“Owww,” Kirk whined. “my big toe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first paragraph was edited to make a smooth transition to the mess hall scene to make sense why the mess hall was screaming. That is the only changes I made from its tumblr variation to ao3. Lol, I didn't really think this first paragraph through when I wrote it on tumblr.


	75. Chapter 75

“Do you have a leg generator?” Kirk asked, abruptly. 

Shalia looked up from the padd. 

“Elaborate,” Shalia said, raising a thin slanted eyebrow. 

“I can sense my bondmate coming this way,” Kirk said.

“Your bondmate is either dying or dead,” Shalia said. 

Kirk had a short laugh.

“He is not exactly the type who lets a beetle about the size of a fist stop him,” Kirk said, fondly. “The things love can drive a man to do…” a smile fondly looked back at a memory that Spock had shared with him. “Sometimes I think he can’t stand being without me.”

“Doctor!” a human nurse called. “We have a new patient!” 

Shalia turned as Kirk rubbed his foot. _Right on time_.  Kirk kept his eyes off from looking what injuries Spock had. Spock did not let the beetles walk over him, freely. Spock likely tossed them off as they climbed. Being blind didn’t matter when it came to finding Kirk. It was his ‘spidey sense’. Or at least that is what Chekov called it. Kirk did not need to give himself nightmares for the month when his husband was going to be very alive in bed with him. 

“Oh no,” Shalia said. 

“We are going to need more than a dermal generator on his legs!” the tall and very human nurse said. 

“You’re a double dumbass, T’hy’la,” Spock said, guided over to another to a special section of the sick bay. 

“I know, baby!” Kirk called back, as the lights briefly went out then turned back on. 

* * *

Charles made his way down the corridor. Ku’mie strolling by his side There was silence between them. He dropped his phaser to the ground while leaning against the wall while taking a break. Ku’mie was alert looking around. He can feel that they were getting closer to the center. He came to a stop, abruptly, as the sound of a loud buzzing was coming from behind him. Ku’mie and Charles slowly looked over their shoulders to see a medium sized beetle shaking its rear while staring at them. Ku’mie fired at the beetle destroying it in a golden blast.  

“Run!” Charles said, running ahead.

“Commodore!” Ku’mie called, their voice being distant. 

“I MEAN RUN!” Charles shouted back. “THERE IS MORE WHERE THAT CAME FROM!”

“Oh shit,” Ku’mie said, and then she screamed. 

Charles speeded down the corridor. 

He took left turns and right turns with full speed ahead. 

The corridors were eerily familiar. As though—Charles stopped, seeing a bracelet. He picked it up seeing the familiar engravements. It was the same ship. This belonged to the first officer of the ship. It had been on the officers wrist with distinctive designs on it. Charles slowly stood up. He walked on ahead placing the object into his pocket. He should have done this long ago. So long ago. He walked slowly down the path hearing the groan of the ship. He followed the familiar path as he had been dragged in. He was scared then and he was not now. He knew his place in all of it. Perhaps if he took control of the ship and sent it elsewhere, far, far away from Federation Space then everyone will be safe.  

He came to the opening of the center. There was a large skeleton of a beast resting in the chair with wires sticking  out and a circular optic in one of the eyes. It was nothing like he had seen before. He came over seeing the dangling wires above the creatures head. He lifted the beast off then dragged it away. It seemed the beast was in a one piece suit with technology covering all over. The odd scars in the ship began to make sense. The ship had been attacked, invaded, and ransacked. Whatever this alien was, their brain was used quickly. No one had noticed that  Charles had saved his curly hair. No one had noticed how resolved he had been about  going at all. The first thing he did after leaving the bridge and running through the corridor was shaving including the fancy mustache that Shannon loved. She giggled when they kissed as it tickled her. 

Charles slowly sat down into the chair thinking of his wife. 

“I consent,” Charles said. 

There were several jabs into his head, and other parts of his body.

But they were done gently with care not as fast and non-careful than before. He hung onto the train of thought. A flash of seeing Hugh as a newborn in his arms. The very same memory of making a promise to protect him in whatever way he could. Tears strolled down the man’s cheek. He watched memories of his wife and son, happy memories, growing up and aging. His eyes acting as the camera. His brain acting as the film. A smile grew on his face as the pain circulated throughout. As though the long tendrils were doing something else. Paul passionately talking about mushrooms with Hugh looking at the astromycologist fondly and affectionately even if he didn’t understand a word coming out of his mouth.  Hugh’s hand on top of Paul’s hand. His son’s upcoming husband was going to protect him. And he was going to be, above all, happy. 

Next, he was jerked out of those memories to see a unfamiliar woman headed his way. A strange, tall figure with what seemed to be ridges, scales, dressed in black, and a spoon on the center of his forehead.  A orange head individual with slanted eyebrows, curled hair, and pointy ears was covering their shoulders kept up by the lizard like man. The woman had pitch black pupils. She was speaking to him but he couldn’t understand most of the words. She cleared her throat approaching him and spoke in his language. His eyes were caught on her black ones. He could see space. Unexplored places. Stars. Planets. Or maybe it was his imagination. Who was he? Charles Lee Culber the… third? second? fifth? He wasn’t entirely sure. 

Her name was Bole and she wanted to help him. 

* * *

“Landing party has returned,” the announcement came. 

Suddenly, the Greosciou vanished in a blue flash leaving behind  a trail of scrap metal behind. T’Pot stood up as there was silence on the damaged bridge. She stared at the screen in complete shock. They killed the beast and freed themselves—but it looked like it warped out of their orbit. There was no word from the head science officer since the earlier departure. T’Pot turned away from the screen, still in complete shock. 

“Warp factor one to Earth,” T’Pot requested. 

“Aye, captain.” The ship did not move. “uhhh. . ” the helmsmen turned in the direction of T’Pot. “Captain, we have impulse power. It seems… Warp is out of the question.”

“Impulse drive it is, then,” T’Pot said. “Bring us home, Ensign.”

“Aye aye, captain,” the ensign turned from T’Pot back to the station. 

This time, the ship soared slowly through space. It would take at least two weeks to get back to Earth. Limping along home. The representatives would be dropped off to emergency ships that came by and took them home. It was a highly eventful week let for a starfleet vessel. Her first command was still alive, and some were likely dead. A wave of relief passed through her channeling through to the bond. The smallest of all pleased smiles appeared on her face then vanished. 

“Lieutenent Taplay,” T’Pot said, her attention on the communication’s officer. “You have the bridge.”

T’Pot came through the doorway and headed her way down the corridor. She climbed the jefferie tubes to make her way in the direction of sick bay. She heard loud humming. She looked over the edge to see a large roomba cleaning the floor chasing after Gresociou invasive insects. She resumed her climb. Eventually, she slid out of the jefferie tube then made her way down the hall. She went through the doorway. 

“Commodores,” T’Pot stopped, seeing Charles laid on a gurney being wheeled in the direction of the surgical room.  

Orego stood, with his head lowered, with a  look of loss. 

“He’s gone,” Orego said. “the Commodore I knew isn’t there anymore.”

T’Stonn looked up as his shoulder was being repaired by a nurse. 

“Captain,” T’Stonn said. “Sharon Bole gave her life for the commodore.” T’Pot listened intently.  “She easily adjusted to the rapid change and let us depart before she warped out. As it turns out she was more capable of piloting the ship due to being more familiar communicating telepathically and detaching herself from her body.  Commodore Culber was close to being the perfect brain.”

“I see,” T’Pot said, then she glanced off toward the security officers recovering from their injuries and other others lining the sick bay.  She came over toward a science officer. “Have you seen SCO?”

“No, captain,” the ensign said. “I haven’t seen them…” the ensign lowered their head then looked up.  “Not since they came in for the request. Maybe they are in the science lab studying the newly preserved dead insects.”

T’Pot nodded in understanding. 

“Captain,” Lurille said. “I can send the word out that the Gresociou is gone among the crew.”

“Do that,” T’Pot said.

“Though, we might need to wait a full twenty-four hours before leaving this room,” Lurille said. “just to be sure that these beetles are taken of by Commander Stabby.”

“Indeed,” T’Pot said. “I do have to make several calls to Starfleet command regarding the resolve of this matter.”

The head science officer’s shell would later be found mangled and beyond repair twenty-four-hours afterwards. T’Pot and security worked a way around that to prevent the representatives from knowing. From behind the Starfleet officers, Kirk was sitting next to Spock on a chair next to the biobed while reading a novel to him with the antique glasses. Spock’s legs were in a moveable shell like object and he wore very short shorts. Spock’s hands were cupped together onto his lap purring in content.


	76. Epilogue

“Did you bring the kitten?” Kirk asked.

“He is not really a kitten anymore, dad,” Lyionel replied, then held up the light peach cat carrier. “You were out there for three weeks!” He looked at the side. “technically he is still a kitten but I _think_ the Klingon half has a hand in that.”

The calico cat mewed at the grinning admiral.

“A----acho!” Spock had a high pitch swift sneeze as he came over to Kirk’s side.

“Bless you,” Kirk said, fondly looking over toward the taller Vulcan.

“I am fine,” Spock said.

“Thank you, son,” Kirk said. “Sorry you had to spend your first holiday alone.”

“Actually, I spent Hanukkah with the Kirk’s,” Lyionel said. “andddd guess where we went.”

“Rock climbing?” Kirk offered.

“Camping,” Spock said.

“Zoo going?” Kirk guessed.

“Even better,” Lyionel said. “Shopping!”

Spock raised an eyebrow at the man. They had gone shopping with the young man during his recovery. He had lots of clothes that ranged in taste, some of which were fancy, and he had long socks that didn’t blend in. He was dressed entirely in green. All of his clothes were green with different secondary colors ranging for holiday events. In fact, he wore green sun glasses decorated in light green sparkles. Lyionel reminded Spock of the riddler’s criminal fashionable style. Kirk turned his attention toward the cat.

“What are the kittens names?” Kirk asked.

“Kobay, and Ashi,” Lyionel said. Kirk slowly turned his head in the direction of Spock who had a fond short laugh. Spock had a fond short well aged laugh.

“Mr Spock,” Kirk said, baffled but in a endearing teasingly manner. “you can’t resist the opportunity to name a cat after a program that hasn’t been made,”

“I didn’t name them, I gave him a list of suggestions,” Spock said. “Apparently he favored Kobay and Ashi.”

“We’re failing at this,“ Kirk said.

“More than we ever know,” Spock said. “It seems the giftee has finally left the Hood.”

“Where--” Kirk looked over to see Ambassador Durche exiting the docking port. “There he is!”

The dark man was being escorted by security officers straying from the remaining Ambassadors. Like a very young man with more than energy than someone in their sixties, Kirk ran after the man with carrier in hand. The calico mewed as it slid from side to side. Spock followed along  after the admiral in a slow pace. Officers walked past Spock and Kirk. Lyionel went over to a honey station and ordered himself a honey bar.

“Ambassador Durche!” Kirk called..

Durche stopped appearing to be alarmed.

“Yes?” Durche said.

“Your cat,” Kirk handed the carrier to the dark woman.

Durche turned the cat carrier toward him to see the calico.

“That is so cute,” Durche lowered the carrier. ‘“Thank, thank you, thank you very much, Admiral Miller.”  Durche held her hand out for the man to shake.

“You’re very welcome,” Kirk said, taking the Loktaran’s hand.

“I won’t forget this,” Durche said. “If you need a favor on Loktara, please, call.”

“We will,” Kirk said. 

Durche let go of the admiral’s hand then turned in the direction of people calling him. People who shared a familiar resemblance dressed in a two piece yellow outfit resembling much what the delegates were in. Durche, the Loktaran Ambassador, was in a two piece dark outfit with a bright blue sash. She turned back in the direction of the partners.

“May the great bird of the galaxy bless you,” Durche said, then stopped shaking hands with the admiral.

“Live long and prosper,” Spock said, holding the ta’al..

Durche turned from the two then headed off toward his direction. Spock lowered his hand linking it behind his back. There was a familiar mew from behind the two. It was distinct and short. It was a familiar mew that Italian made just for him. Kirk had a happy sigh watching the woman go off.  Spock turned away from Kirk then knelt down. The sound of a mew brought the attention of the admiral. Kirk looked over to see in his husbands arms was a large, fluffy white cat that was purring. Spock felt on the cats forehead then grew a beaming wide smile as he stood up to his feet. Italian rubbed the side of Spock’s cheek with the side of his face.

“I thought he was gone,” Spock said, emotionally.

“No one is truly gone,” Kirk said, rubbing along Italian’s neck while looking up toward Spock with affection.

Italian’s legs were on the Spock’s shoulders purring while laid in the corner of his arm. His head turned in the direction of admiral Kirk. Washington came out of the docking port and stopped, holding a  small cat carrier, to see that the kitten had found them. A smile grew on the officer’s face then returned the cat carrier back into the ship. The scene panned back. Spock had another sneeze. Kirk had a laugh at the Ambassador.

* * *

The press was all over the matter shortly after the Hood’s docking port met with the starbase. The ship had several layers of metal peeled away, a deck corridor for three decks were missing, loss of officers, and the phenomenon of Stabby the quartermaster quickly trended in the federation. Officer Reeds was escorted out by security in cuffs then handed over to starbase authorities.T’Pot stood at the top of the curled tower in the shape of a ‘c’ attached to the ground. Visiting one of Earth’s historical sights only momentarily reminded the woman how insignificant she was. How planets were vast and large with population centers. She exited the ground minutes afterwards relieved and dressed enough to blend in with the Terrans.

Now that the mission was over.

What was there to do now?

For so long, she had been determined on serving the captain and the crew’s protection. A security officer, chief of security, turned captain. She had served in Starfleet for over twenty years. The reports that she had read was strikingly struck a cord. Bole’s physical body was gone except for her brain taking the Greosciou far, far, away, out of the galaxy possibly. Ten thousand years alone and never come back. Was she going to go the same way? A captain, who did so much to preserve the ship, ending up as a disapproval in Starfleet. Yet to her, Bole was perhaps a great captain. She wasn’t illusion-ed on that thought. She had not planned ahead for this. Not at all. T’Pot’s bondmate came behind her with linked hands behind his back as she gazed off the balcony to their apartment. It was a like breeze going from Earth to Vulcan for downtime.

“Your mind is preoccupied,” Sochya said, coming to the woman’s side.

T’Pot visibly relaxed alongside the short Vulcan.

“I do not  know how I can go back out there,” T’Pot said.

“There is no room in your life if you let fear reside in it. . .” Sochy said.

“Until you cast it out,” T’Pot finished.

“Indeed,” Sochya said.

“I do not believe my life is to be spent in space,” T’Pot said, leaned forward with a sigh placing her hands on the balcony’s edge. She looked over toward the man. “Perhaps it is somewhere else. Somewhere closer. I do not wish to be compared with my former captain.”

“You have done this comparing and contrasting all on your own,” Sochya said. "The press has not done any of it as of far,” Sochya placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “You are a starfleet officer and have done as far proved yourself worthy of commanding a starship.”

“It does not feel natural,” T’Pot said.

“Nothing does aboard a Starfleet vessel,” Sochya said. “It is unnatural . . Perhaps with your new career advancement, there is a purpose behind it, such as patrolling zones.” she raised her head up. “Which is, in itself, a security mission.”

T’Pot nodded.

“You are right,” T’Pot said, turning away. “I shall find a assignment that deals with my interests accordingly.”

Sochya held his two fingers out.

“Excellent, my wife,” Sochya said.

T’Pot completed the ozh’esta gesture.

* * *

Spock was laid in bed surrounded by Kobay, Ashi, Maru, and Italian. Italian was seated alongside Spock against his chest. Kirk came to the bedroom door singing. Spock’s skin was covered in sweat. His grayed hair was stuck against his skin. Sensing Kirk’s return, Spock turned from the direction of the window toward Kirk. Spock lifted himself up against the back rest of the bed as the door opened. Kirk slid the door open.

“Good morning, husband!” Kirk’s well aged voice that rung in the Vulcan’s ears.

“Ashaya, adun, t’hy’la,” Spock said, as Kirk placed the tray onto the Vulcan’s lap. Steaming, warm plomeek soup rested in the center. There were pieces of tomato floating inside and celery.  Kirk’s special ‘get well soon’ soup was red with pieces of carrots sticking out.  Kirk sat on the edge of the bed appearing well phrased compared to the ill, shirtless Vulcan. Italian leapt into the Vulcan’s lap.  “Please lower-” Spock sneezed. “your voice. It is too loud.”

“Sorry about that,” Kirk said, softening his voice. “I can’t believe we forgot to get you a shot before we left.”

“It is partially my fault,” Spock said. “I was focused on other matters.”

“November and December were busy months,” Kirk said. “Learning Federation Standard, then how to write, and cursive. . . That was very stressfull. I think I got more grayed hair because of it.” Kirk laughed in bemusement.

Spock held his two fingers out for the admiral.

“You are beautiful,” Spock said. “Just the way you are.”

“If you weren’t sick then I would be kissing you the human way,” Kirk said, returning the gesture.

“Kaiidth,” Spock said. Then he lowered his hand feeling around for a spoon. Italian moved the spoon toward Spock’s hands. Spock’s fingers grabbed onto the long, cold silver center then picked up and began to eat. Kirk’s warm smile at the scene slowly started to fade.

“I am going to work today,” Kirk said. “And I am taking Lyionel.”

Spock raised an eyebrow.

“I am sure, Spock,” Kirk said. “he is going to be the most helpful on this secret mission.”

Spock took a sip appearing not to be convinced.

“The mission we’re going on involves a science facility,” Kirk said. “You know, the Gastavo colony?”  Spock nearly dropped it. “Spock, I won’t save it. We are just fixing a little problem.” Spock glared in the direction of the admiral. “I know, I know, I know. We can’t interfere more as have any further.”  Kirk shook his hands. “Okay, it’s more of a big problem. The locals worship someone named Ha’chie. The scientists there think they’re worshiping a robot.”

“Natives had no part in the tragedy at the Gastavo colony,” Spock said. Spock’s attention was laid on Kirk. Spock’s unoccupied hand went over to Kirk’s hand gently taking it. “Jim, be careful.”

“I will, I will,” Kirk said, “In the mean time, I have arranged to have all the medicine for you on the counter. And I like you not to go after us when you’re sick. Don’t want the natives to get sick, do you?”

“No,” Spock said.

“By tomorrow, you’ll be good enough to make yourself something,” Kirk said.

“I shall be,” Spock said, with a nod.  “If I am still not well, I shall force myself up and provide self-care.”

Kirk had a light hearted laugh looking at Spock affectionately.

“Self care does,” Kirk said, with a light squeeze of Spock’s hand earning a slight gasp.

“ _Jim_ ,” Spock emphasized. “Not when I am eating.”

“You’re so lovely,” Kirk said.

“I am quite aware how attractive I am to you,” Spock said. “I do not desire a mess on this bed that I cleaned three weeks ago.”

“Oh well, the things you can arouse out of me,” Kirk said.

Spock heard knocking from down stairs.

“It appears we have a visitor.” Spock said.

“I wonder who that can be,” Kirk said. “Probably a lost traveler.”

“Again,” Spock said, rubbing his forehead.

“I will wake Lyionel up then get the door,” Kirk said. “Baby, it’s a little of a Kirk incident that we live by the fork in the road to the highway.”

Kobay, Ashi, and Maru raised their heads up with alert ears at the sound of  the knocking. Lyionel was sleeping in his bedroom snoring away almost ready to fall right off. Kirk stroked Italian’s forehead then slid his figure off reluctantly off the bed. Kirk left the door ajar heading his way down the hall. Spock sipped in more of the soup making a occasional chew or two. Spock picked up the napkin wiping along his mouth. Spock heard the sound of a door creaking open. There was sheer joy and shock traveling through the bond.

“ _Bones_!” Kirk shouted.

And that is when Spock knew that his new family was whole again leaving a smile on his face.

His not a logical intervention came to become something otherwise.

It had turned into a much . . . _logical_ intervention in the grand scheme of things.

**The End.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHY DID YOU EVEN START READING THIS? AND CONTINUE FOR THAT MATTER? You're sadistic. 
> 
> Also, thanks for reading this story and sticking along to the happy end!
> 
> I can't believe y'all stuck on to it as soon as I posted the story on ao3. 
> 
> Thank you for tagging along to the journey. 
> 
> For trying to keep up while I posted the numerous parts on here from tumblr. 
> 
> I am **finally** at the end. All my foreshadowing at the beginning happened except the attack by a space pirate. That didn't happen. Well, the elements did still happen. Orion slave trade, Romulans, Space Pirates, a anomaly puts his jarring world upside down forever and then the second does the same this time leaving him with the embodiment of hope. That things will be better for the future. Almost glowing. Spock Prime can't see it but he can feel the hope.
> 
> This story was about Spock then the Kirk's came in, Robau came in, Lyionel came in ( _Originally to be a Romulan Spy to detect if Spock Prime is a federation threat but his character evolved and screamed "NO!" at it. And he really didn't want to break the old man's heart_ ), and Kirk Prime then so many characters were drawn right in. Canon and fanon. I had to reuse them of course because I didn't want to make them and use them once in this story. I did not expect this story to become this long and huge. I wanted to end it after the reunion but a part of my mind wanted to give a insight of what living in the past would be like for them. I decided to make something new for old married spirk. 
> 
> Sometimes, the best long projects are the projects you don't see coming.
> 
> Live long and prosper.


End file.
